The Pensieve
by Johnny Doggspitt
Summary: When Harry and Draco are accidentally thrust into the Dark Lord's pensieve, the two boys find out that they may have to rely on each other more than anyone could have known.
1. Chapter 1

**The Pensieve**

Harry Potter had no clue how he got here. He remembered something about a spy mission, but details tend to get fuzzy when you're being chased by a horde of Death Eaters.

For the moment, Harry had lost them. He was wandering around a dark, dank corridor in the Dark Lord's lair, trying to figure out which way he came in.

There were many doors down this particular corridor, but, seeing as he was in Voldemort's hideout, he was reluctant to open any.

Suddenly, from behind him, he heard a slightly familiar drawl. There was no mistaking the voice, even though he had only heard it a few times.

"Look down this corridor," Lucius Malfoy instructed. "I have a feeling he's down this one."

Fighting back a growing feeling of panic, Harry picked a door at random and slipped into it.

Using his wand to lock the door, he listened until Malfoy and some other Death Eaters paused outside.

"No use trying this door," came the voice of MacNair. "The Dark Lord always keeps it locked."

"Yes," Malfoy agreed. "That's where he keeps his…well, you know." There was a sound of shuffling feet as they all moved on.

Harry unlocked the door and peeked out. Unwilling to leave the safety of the room, he closed the door again.

He surveyed his surroundings. The room was moderately lit with five large torches. In the middle of the room was a small stone table and on the table was…

A pensieve. Harry got closer to make sure he was actually seeing what he thought he was seeing. And yes, when he got up to the table, the object was, indeed, still a pensieve.

He gave the liquid light (or solid wind) a prod with his wand, and the light (or wind) revealed a somewhat familiar house, although he couldn't remember where he'd seen it.

"Well, well, Potter," came a cruel drawl. "You _are_ snoopy, aren't you?"

Harry, shocked out of his musings, spun around to find himself wand-to-face with none other than Draco Malfoy.

"Quite jumpy, also. I would appreciate it if you would remove your wand from my face."

Regaining his wits, Harry sneered. "And why should I? I have no reason to trust you!"

Malfoy spread his arms. "I'm unarmed, Potter. I'm of no threat to you." He thought for a second, and then added, "Unfortunately."

Harry regarded him suspiciously. "How do I know you're not lying?"

Malfoy sighed impatiently. "Because I only lie when I'm asked to."

Harry stared at him for a few seconds, and then lowered his wand.

"That's better," Malfoy commented.

"So, what now?" asked Harry, tiredly.

"Now, we try to sneak you out of here without getting caught and/or killed."

Harry couldn't have heard him right. "I'm sorry…what?"

"I said we're going to try to sneak you out."

Harry's heart almost stopped. Malfoy was…offering to help him?

"Honestly, Potter, close your mouth before your jaw falls off! What am I supposed to do, hand you over to You-Know-Who?"

"Well, yeah!" Harry decided to rephrase that statement. "I mean, you being who you are, and your father being who he is, I just figured-"

"You'll want to watch what you say about my father, Potter," Draco interrupted.

"What, I can't say he's an overdressed, slimy git?"

"You take that back, Potter!" Malfoy yelled, rushing toward him and slamming him back into the table.

Unfortunately, in an effort to steady himself, Harry accidentally plunged his hand into the pensieve.

The floor gave an unpleasant heave, and Harry and Malfoy were thrown into the basin.

"Oh, brilliant, Potter!" Malfoy complained. "Just wonderful! Why the bloody hell'd you have to go and stick your bloody hand in the pensieve? And where the bloody hell are we?"

"It's not my fault! And I have no clue as to where we are! Although, it _does_ seem familiar…"

It was night inside the pensive and they were outside the back door of a comfortable-looking two-story townhouse.

"Great. Perfect. Do you have any idea what we're in, Potter?"

"Yes. It's called a pensieve. It-"

"It's the _Dark Lord's_ pensieve, Potter! And believe me, whatever's in here, we don't want to see it!"

Harry let out a sigh. "Well, how do we get out of here?"

"You're asking me?" Malfoy asked incredulously. "You're the one who's been inside a pensieve, before!"

"How do you know that?"

"Snape tells me everything, Potter. He _is_ my godfather, you know."

"He is? I didn't know that!"

"Well, now you know."

Harry looked at him grumpily. "Anyway, I've never found out how to get out of a pensieve on my own!"

"So, what do we do now?"

"I guess we just go along with the memory and close our eyes when it gets bad."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Oh, bloody brilliant, Potter."

"Shh! Someone's coming!"

They heard footsteps approaching quickly and purposefully. A dark figure in a hooded robe slipped out of the shadows and walked up to the house.

"Voldemort," Harry whispered. Even though he knew the Dark Lord couldn't see him, he still cringed back from him as he passed. To his surprise, he saw Draco do the same.

"Alohomora," Voldemort muttered when he reached the door. It sprang open and he passed through it. After glancing at each other, Harry and Draco followed.

They got in just in time to hear a man yelling.

"I'll hold him off! Run!"

The words and the voice triggered a long-forgotten memory in Harry's brain.

"No," he whispered. "Please, no!"

"What are you babbling on about now, Potter?" Malfoy sneered, but Harry was already sprinting into another room.

Harry burst into the room to a surprising sight. It was almost as though he had been hurled into the future and was looking at himself. The same untidy black hair…same glasses…but the eyes were wrong. Harry knew instantly that this was his father.

"Just walk away, Potter, and I might not kill you," Voldemort said in that horrible, high-pitched voice of his. "It's not you I want at this particular moment."

"Why are you here then?" James asked bravely, standing his ground.

Voldemort smiled a terrible smile. "I want your son."

A horrified look came over James' face, but before he could react, Voldemort muttered the two words that had made Harry and orphan; the two last words James heard: "Avada Kedavra!"

"NO!" Harry screamed, running toward Voldemort. He had no rational thoughts running through his head; he was acting on pure instinct. It wasn't until he collided with Voldemort and ran straight through him that he remembered where he was. He dropped to his knees next to his father and cried miserably.

Voldemort swept past him toward a flight of stairs. Harry got up and ran after him.

Malfoy stopped him right at the foot of the stairs. He looked extremely uncomfortable. "Potter, really, you shouldn't go up there. You probably weren't meant to see this!"

"Do you really think we're going to have a choice? This is Voldemort's memory! We're going to have to see what he saw! Besides, it may be best that I see this. I might be able to understand some things now."

Malfoy sighed and stepped aside.

Harry and he bolted up the stairs where a woman was screaming.

"Not Harry! Not Harry! Please, I'll do anything!"

Harry ran into the room to see his mother standing protectively in front of a baby, whom Harry could only assume was himself.

"Stand aside!" Voldemort yelled. "Stand aside, girl!"

"No!" Lily said, pleadingly. "Please, no!"

Voldemort smirked. "Avada Kedavra!" Lily screamed and fell to the floor, lifeless. Voldemort then proceeded to point his wand at young Harry…

The floor gave another lurch, and Harry and Draco found themselves back in the room with the pensieve.

Harry leaned back against a leg of the table and let his tears fall freely.

Draco walked over to him timidly and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Harry…I'm so sorry…"

"Wait, when did I become 'Harry' instead of 'Potter'?"

"Well, now, I suppose," Draco said with a hint of a grin. He wiped the smile from his face and said, "You shouldn't have had to relive that. That was terrible."

Harry nodded. "At least I know exactly what happened now."

Draco nodded. "Maybe now you'll be able to find some closure."

Harry smiled. "I hate that word, closure. It sounds so formal."

"I hate it, too." Draco laughed softly.

Harry looked at him for a second. "Why are you being so nice to me, Draco?"

The other boy raised an eyebrow. "So I'm 'Draco' now, am I?" He grinned. "Well, I suppose I'm being nice to you because you just had to see your parents get killed."

"No, that's not what I mean. You're supposed to be horrible. I'm supposed to hate you!" He paused for a moment before continuing. "You're supposed to be a Death Eater."

Draco stared hard at him. "I am, am I? Let me tell you something. Just because my father's one doesn't mean _I_ want to be one! I think it's horrible what the Dark Lord's doing, but I can't stand up to him, or I'll be tortured and disowned. Maybe even killed! Father would be horribly mad at me…"

"Your father would be mad at you if he found out about a lot of things, wouldn't he?"

"Yes, I suppose he would."

Harry looked at him for a few seconds. "So what do you say, Draco? Friends?"

Draco smiled. "Definitely." He got up and held out a hand to help Harry to his feet. "Now, I promised I'd help you get out of here."

Harry allowed Draco to lead him through secret passages. They wound on forever it seemed, and Harry wondered if even Voldemort could find his way around here.

Some half hour later, they came out into the open. "Will you be alright?" Harry asked once they were safely outside.

"I'll be fine. See you in school in two weeks?"

"Of course!" Harry smiled. "It's going to come as a shock to everyone when we actually get along."

Draco smirked. "Maybe we could keep it a secret for a while. You know, let everyone get used to it slowly. Besides, it's fun to have a brawl every now and then!"

"Maybe you've got a point," Harry said with a smile. "See you on the train!" He paused and said, "Draco, don't tell anyone about what you saw in the pensieve tonight, please?"

He smirked and his eyes danced. "What pensieve?"

fin


	2. Chapter 2

**Secrets**

It was two weeks after the Pensieve incident. Harry had been spending the last few weeks at the Weasley's house. He hadn't wanted to stay at Grimmauld Place. It was too depressing, and plus, he didn't want to get roped into any more spy duty. You never knew what you would run into on those missions.

He, Ron, and Hermione were currently standing on the Muggle side of Platform 9 3/4, waiting for Ginny to go through so they could follow. They were running slightly late (as usual) and Mrs. Weasley wasn't in the best of moods.

"Alright, you three! Hurry up now! You're going to miss the train, and you will not be allowed to take the car this time!"

Harry and Ron looked away guiltily, but Hermione said, "Actually, Mrs. Weasley, I've never taken your car to school!"

Molly gave her a stern look, and the trio ran through the barrier sniggering.

They burst through the other side to the usual pandemonium. They quickly stowed their trunks and found an empty compartment. As Harry closed the door, he caught sight of Draco. He flashed the pale boy a winning smile, and Draco returned the favor with a secretive wink.

Harry turned back around, not realizing he still had a smile on his face.

"Well, honestly, Harry, what are you so happy about?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing," Harry said quickly. "I was just…thinking."

Ron looked at him concernedly. "You've been acting really secretive lately, Harry. You should tell us what's up!"

"Yeah!" Hermione chimed in. "You always tell us everything!"

Harry sighed. He felt bad about keeping secrets from the two of them, but he felt that this was a secret they didn't need to know, at least, not for the time being.

"I can't tell you what I was thinking about just now, but I can tell you something that happened to me this summer."

He proceeded to tell them about the pensieve, conveniently forgetting to mention that Draco had any part in his story.

"Oh, Harry, that's terrible!" Hermione moaned.

"Don't know how you do it, mate," Ron said. "I would've gone mad if it had been me!"

Harry grinned. "Well, I guess I'm just tougher than you." He winked at Ron. "Anyway, I'll just be glad for the moment that you can't accuse me of hiding things from you both."

Hermione smiled mischievously. "Yes we can! You still haven't told us why you were smiling!"

"Oh, that's nothing. Just a happy memory."

"Come on, Harry!" Ron whined. "Tell us!"

"I was just thinking of…the…er…the first time I rode a broomstick," Harry lied. It sounded lame, even to him.

Ron and Hermione stared at him. "And…why were you thinking that?" Hermione asked.

"It was just a random memory, I guess." He felt terrible about lying to his two best friends, but he really felt that they would be happier not knowing.

It was at that moment that Draco chose to walk smugly into the room flanked by his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the Dream Team," Draco sneered, acting like nothing had changed between Harry and him.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked, playing the part.

Draco put on an innocent face. "Why, I just wanted to see my three best friends! Is that so bad?" He sneered. "Honestly, Potter, what do you _think_ I want?"

"You know, Malfoy," Ron piped up, "I don't see why you come in here every year! All you do is insult us and walk off! There's no point to it!"

Draco looked over at Harry, who gave him a barely visible nod, which clearly said, _He's got a point_. "Actually, Weasel, you're right. I don't know why I waste my precious oxygen and time talking to you Mudbloods anyway!" He looked at Harry just in time to catch an angry look, then stalked out the door.

"What is that git's problem?" Hermione asked angrily.

"I don't know," Harry said truthfully, with every intention of asking that question later on.

Sitting in a secluded spot by the lake with Draco, that very question came up.

"Oh, come on, Potter!" Draco said. "We've only been at school for three days! You don't want to get on a subject like this already, do you?"

"Yes, I do! And what happened to calling me Harry?"

"I have decided to call you Harry only when you're not doing incredibly stupid things." He pondered for a moment. "Which would mean you would be called Potter permanently, I suppose."

Harry punched him playfully on the arm. "Seriously, Draco, I'm curious. Why are you so horrible to everyone?"

Draco shrugged. "I suppose it's my nature."

"It's not your nature. You're a lot nicer than that."

"Well, then, maybe I'm like this because it's what's expected of me."

"Don't give me that, Draco! I know from personal experience that you don't always live up to what you're expected to be."

"It's what my father expects of me," Draco said softly.

"Oh…that would explain it."

"Look, Harry, I really don't want to talk about it, ok?"

"Of course. We can talk about something else."

"Like what?"

"Like…How and when we're going to let our secret out, I guess."

"Exchanging one bad subject for another, eh, Harry?"

"Well, if you don't want to talk about it-"

"I don't mind. I just…I have a reputation at this school, Harry, and hating you is part of it! I would lose all my credibility in Slytherin if we let this out!"

"What's the point of being friends if no one can know about it?"

"We can still be friends without people knowing! I mean, being friends doesn't mean that everyone knows about it!"

Harry sighed. "Alright, Draco. But someday, I'd like to be able to tell my _other_ friends about this."

"Perhaps when we get out of this school, Harry. Perhaps before! Who knows? I'm just not ready yet."

Harry mused for a few seconds, and burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"It's just that we sound like a gay couple discussing when to come out of the closet!" Harry sniggered.

"And…that's funny how?"

"Well, because I'm not gay. Why, are you?"

"No! And I don't like being referenced to as gay, either!"

"Well, jeez, Drake, sorry! I wasn't calling you gay! Don't be so touchy about it, or people will think you _are_ gay!"

"Just as long as my father doesn't think it, I'm fine."

"Ohh…this is another one of those 'my father' things, huh?"

"I don't expect you to understand this, Harry. Just go along with it, ok?"

"Yeah, sure, fine!" He thought for a little while, and asked, "But, if your father wouldn't get mad at you, _would_ you be gay?"

"GAH! Potter, what is it with you and all these questions? Honestly, one would think _you_ were gay! And I really don't feel like answering your insane question at this moment!"

"Whatever you say, Draco." He checked his watch. "It's almost time for dinner. We should go back in."

"A wise decision. I don't like where that conversation was going. Shall we say, same time tomorrow?"

"Actually, I'm going down to see Hagrid tomorrow. How about the day after?"

"Works for me. Same time, same place." Draco headed off toward the castle. Harry waited a good five minutes so no one would suspect anything, and followed Draco's footsteps.

He supposed he could get used to a hidden friendship, but he would never get used to hiding secrets from Ron and Hermione. They had shared everything with him. When they had started dating at the beginning of the summer, he had been the first to know. It just felt wrong to be hiding something this big from them.

In Potions class the next day, Snape had paired Harry with Draco in yet another attempt to make Harry miserable, which seemed to be his goal in life.

They both found it extremely hard to act as miserable as they usually would be. They managed to get into a few arguments, but it still wasn't enough to keep Snape happy.

"Mr. Malfoy," he said after a period of twenty minutes without a mean comment from the both of them. "Are you feeling well today?"

"Actually, sir," he said in that suck up voice he got around Snape, "I'm not feeling very well at all."

Harry gave him a kick under the table and looked at him curiously. Draco gave him a slight nod, which Harry took to mean that he was telling the truth.

"Do you need to go to the hospital wing, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked, making sure that everyone else in the class knew that he wouldn't be making the same offer for them.

"Oh, no, sir, I don't feel that sick. I just have a bit of a headache."

Snape looked at him suspiciously, but didn't say anything.

Finally, the bell rang, and Ron and Hermione caught up with him outside the classroom.

"What's up with you and Malfoy?" Hermione asked. "I wonder if _you're_ feeling well today!"

"I'm feeling fine, Hermione, really. I guess Malfoy was just feeling bad, so he didn't have the energy to fight. To tell you the truth, it was a welcome change."

They looked at him suspiciously, but seemed to think that his explanation was acceptable. Ron hooked his arm around Hermione's waist, and they followed Harry to the Great Hall for lunch.

"I wonder what's for lunch today," Hermione mused.

"Hopefully something good," Harry said absently.

As they were eating, Harry tried his hardest to concentrate on eating, but his mind and his eyes kept wandering over to Draco. He didn't realize that he was staring at him until Neville waved his hand in front of Harry's face.

"Harry! You're spacing out again! You've been doing that a lot, lately!"

Harry jumped. "Yeah, sorry. I've just been thinking about…things." He took a bite of his chicken.

"Things?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, just things." He stood up. "I have some studying to do. I'll be in the library." With that, he walked out.

Ron looked at Hermione. "You're rubbing off on him!"

Hermione sighed and addressed the rest of the Gryffindor table. "You've all noticed it too, haven't you? Ron and I aren't going crazy, are we? Something's up with Harry!"

"I've noticed it!" Ginny piped up. "He was acting like this at our house, too, but he's gotten worse now."

Neville shrugged. "Maybe he's got a secret girlfriend or something."

Ron looked at him. "No way! Harry would have told us about something like that!"

"Well, maybe it's someone he doesn't think you'll approve of! Or maybe it's a crush and he doesn't think it'll go anywhere."

"You seem to know a lot about that subject, Longbottom!"

They turned to see Draco standing behind them. "What do you want, Malfoy? Ron asked maliciously.

"I just wanted to hear what kind of secrets the brave, courageous Gryffindors keep, but obviously, they're nothing important, so I'll go on my way, now." He walked off gracefully.

"Twit," Hermione commented.

The next day, Harry waited for Draco to show up at the lake. Draco was fifteen minutes late, and Harry was just about to leave, when he heard a rustling behind him.

"Sorry I'm so late," Draco said, emerging from the bushes. "I got caught up in my potions homework."

Harry sighed. "Only you, Draco."

Draco smiled at him. "Yes, only me. That's why I'm so great!" He smirked for a second. "So, Harry, I couldn't help overhearing a conversation the Gryffindors were having yesterday, and I wanted to ask you about it."

"Ask away!"

"Well, they were saying that you have been acting weird lately. They think you have a crush on some girl!" He paused. When Harry didn't answer, he said, "Well? Is it true?"

"No! Of course not! Who would I have a crush on?"

"Oh, I don't know…Cho Chang?"

"No way!"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Oh? I thought you had a thing for her. I heard you even kissed her last year!"

"Yeah, well, that was then. I'm not really all that fond of her anymore."

"Aww," Draco said mockingly. "And why's that? Did she break your heart?"

"That's none of your business, Malfoy."

The usage of his last name told Draco that he'd gone too far. "Sorry, mate. I was just kidding."

Harry sighed. "I don't have a crush on anyone, Draco."

"Of course not."

Harry woke up that night, hot and sweaty from a dream. He couldn't remember ever having a dream like that, not when it included that person. He had dreamed of Draco; of holding him, kissing him… He shook the dream from his mind. He, Harry James Potter, could not be gay. There was just no possible way! He turned over in bed and went back to sleep.

He didn't remember the dream the next morning, until he saw Draco glide gracefully into the Great Hall for breakfast.

_He **is** very good-looking_, Harry thought. Suddenly, he realized what he was thinking, and quickly pushed the thought out of his mind. He was NOT gay!

"Something wrong, Harry?" Ron asked worriedly. "You were staring at Malfoy!"

Harry quickly averted his gaze. "I was just thinking about how much I hate him," Harry said. How many lies could one person stand to tell their best friends?

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked. "That was a pretty interesting look you had."

"Yes, Hermione, I'm sure. It's nothing for you to be worried about."

Hermione looked at him suspiciously. He grew worried. She was the smartest witch of her age! She was sure to notice that Harry had a crush on Draco…

But that was nonsense. He _didn't_ have a crush on Draco, so there was nothing for her to notice! But then, why did he feel so guilty…

Harry almost dreaded going out to see Draco by the lake that afternoon. He didn't want to see him again, for fear that he would think those kind of thoughts again. Every time he had seen Draco that day, he would remember the dream…How right it had felt, and how wonderful it would be if he could just try it in real life. Harry was becoming more and more confused by the minute.

Finally, Draco emerged from the trees. Harry pushed back his sudden feeling of longing.

"Something wrong, Harry?" Draco asked. "You have an odd look."

"Oh, nothing's wrong." More lies. How many lies could one person tell in a lifetime before they finally exploded from the guilt?

Draco ran a hand gracefully through his shockingly silver-blonde hair, and Harry's senses went wild. _Oh, great_, he thought. _Maybe I really **am** gay!_ Resigning himself to this unnerving thought, he decided to ask Draco his thoughts on the subject once more, so he could be sure that he'd never have a chance with him. Then he could get over this stupid idea of being gay.

He leaned back on a tree and said, casually, "Hey, Drake, if a guy asked you out, what would you say?"

"Honestly, Harry, more of this gay talk?" He saw that Harry was being serious and answered the question. "I guess it would depend on who the guy was."

Harry sat up. "You mean, you might go out with them?" he asked incredulously.

"Well, I wouldn't go out with them in public, no. I mean, think of what my father would say if he found out! But I suppose I would carry on a relationship behind everyone's backs. If I liked him enough, that is."

Harry sat back, taking in this new information. "So, like…who _do_ you like enough at this school to go out with them?"

"Oh, I don't know…I don't like all that many people, period. I guess I like Blaise enough, maybe."

"_Blaise_?" Harry asked incredulously. "Blaise _Zabini_?"

"Yeah, what's wrong with him?" Draco asked defensively.

"I don't know…I just can't see _anyone_ going out with him!"

"What about you, Harry?"

"What?"

"Well, what if a guy asked _you_ out? What would _you_ say?"

Harry shrugged. "Depends on who the guy was, I suppose."

It was Draco's turn to look shocked. "You mean…you're gay! The Boy Who Lived is GAY?"

"To tell you the truth, I'm really not quite sure at the moment. I think I'm more like…bisexual."

"You're not sure. You mean, like, you're having a crisis?"

"I wouldn't call it a crisis. I mean, I'm not completely panicked or anything. Just kind of…confused."

"Which is what we call a crisis, Harry. Honestly." He smirked. "Really, now, what are your friends going to think?"

Harry sighed. "They're going to think I've lost my mind."

"They'd be right too, but you lost that a LONG tie ago." Catching the upset look on Harry's face, he changed the subject. "So, who's the lucky (or unlucky) bloke who made you question your sexuality?"

Harry laughed nervously. "Oh, right, like I'd tell _you_ that!"

"Seriously, Harry, I'd like to know!"

"Draco, really, I can't tell you that. You're just better off not knowing."

A knowing came over his face. "Ohh…why didn't I see this before?"

"What?" Harry asked. "What did you not see before?"

"It's me, isn't it? I made you question it!"

Harry sighed. He was caught. "Yeah, it was."

Draco laughed deliciously. "Ooh, I'm FLATTERED, Harry, I really am! But honestly, if you want to go out with me that bad, you'd have to do something with your hair. And get an entirely new wardrobe."

Harry stared at him. "So, you're saying you would go out with me?"

"Well, I told you I would go out with the guy if I liked him enough." He leaned close into Harry. "I'd say I like you enough." He leaned even closer and his lips touched Harry's. It was the most spectacular kiss Harry had ever received. Then again, he'd really ever only gotten kissed once.

"Yet another thing for your father to get mad at you about," Harry said, panting, after they had ended the kiss.

"Yeah, but this one I don't mind keeping from him," Draco said, before kissing him again.

Harry broke the kiss. "You know, maybe we shouldn't do this. I mean, I'm keeping enough secrets from my friends as it is!" Draco gave him a look as if to say, 'yeah, right, do you really want that?' "Then again, I don't have to tell them everything." He pulled Draco into a deep kiss.

"You know," Draco said, "this won't be too good for Cho Chang's self-esteem!"

"What?" Harry asked. "Why?"

"Well, think about it! She went out with you, and after she broke your heart, you turned gay!"

"She did not break my heart, Draco, honestly!" he laughed, and kissed him again. "Now, there's only one thing we have to worry about."

"What's that?"

"Figuring out how and when we're going to let people know about us!"


	3. Chapter 3

**The Ball**

Harry Potter woke up next to Draco Malfoy. Draco hadn't woken up yet, so Harry just gazed lovingly into the other boy's face. Three months had passed since they had confessed their love for each other, but Harry felt that he loved him more and more each day.

For a moment, Harry was startled, thinking that they were sure to get caught, but then he remembered that they were in Draco's room. Usually, that would be cause for panic, but Prefects in Slytherin were given their own private rooms. The other houses didn't give their Prefects this luxury, but Harry wasn't complaining about the unfairness. It meant that he and Draco were less likely to get caught together.

He knew he should be getting back to Gryffindor Tower, but all he wanted to do was to lie next to Draco. They had spent the most wonderful night together, which had included elegant food, romantic candlelight, and…well, let's just say physical activity.

Draco stirred, and a beautiful silver-blonde lock of hair fell carelessly onto his face. Harry gently pushed it back into its place, and Draco's eyes opened.

"Morning, love," Harry said softly. "Sorry to wake you."

Draco smiled sleepily. "No worries, mate. What time is it?"

Harry checked the clock on Draco's bedside table. "Quarter to six. I should be going soon."

"No," Draco groaned, putting his arms around Harry in a restraining hug and burying his face in the soft flesh of Harry's shoulder. "It's Saturday, so you can stay here all day if you want!"

"No such luck, mate. Ron and Hermione would be out of their minds with worry ("They're out of their minds already," Draco grumbled), and I've got Occlumency lessons with Snape." Harry thought for a second. "And you weren't supposed to hear that. Forget I said it. What I really said was 'remedial potions'."

"Ohh! So _that's_ what you've been doing! I knew you and Severus couldn't have been doing potions, seeing as you both had your wands out when I walked in, and there was no cauldron! So, Occlumency, what's that like? Do you see many of Severus' memories? What do you- mmph!"

He was cut short as Harry silenced him with a kiss. "No more questions, Drake, I can't talk about it!"

"Well, fine then!" Draco said, putting on a mock look of hurt. "Why don't you run along back to your precious Gryffindors?"

"Because you know I'd much rather stay here with my precious Slytherin!"

"Harry Potter…"

"What?"

"You are such a tease," he laughed, pulling Harry into a deep kiss.

Harry snuck silently back into Gryffindor Tower wearing his invisibility cloak. Walking up to his dormitory, he had the distinct feeling that he wasn't supposed to be there, but he couldn't remember why. It wasn't until he walked in to see Ron and Hermione asleep in Ron's bed that he remembered. Of course! That was why he slept in Draco's room in the first place! Ron had asked his dorm mates if he could borrow the room for the night. Harry smiled and closed the door.

He quietly tiptoed back down the stairs and, for lack of anything better to do, picked up a piece of parchment off the floor.

It was an advertisement for the Yule Ball, which was coming up. The Ball was on Christmas Eve, which was a fortnight away.

He took a moment to imagine how wonderful it would be to go to the Ball with Draco, but he shook the fantasy from his head. It was one he'd been having ever since he and Draco had gotten together. The Yule Ball would be a perfect place to (to use a clichéd phrase) come out of the closet. But Draco would never have it. Harry couldn't blame him, of course. After all, the poor boy's father did beat him, so of course Draco would be afraid of their secret coming out.

And the truth was that Harry was also afraid of Lucius finding out. All these secrets, all this hiding, it was all to protect Draco. Harry would have done anything to protect Draco. He shook his head and smiled. He really was desperately in love with that boy.

"Harry?" came a voice. He whipped around to see Hermione standing behind him on the stairs. "What are you doing up so early?"

"Oh, I just woke up," he said, truthfully.

"Where did you spend the night?"

"I went down to the library to do some research in the restricted section, and I fell asleep. I'm lucky I woke up before Madam Pince came!"

"Harry…"

"What?"

She looked him straight in the eyes. "You don't have to lie to me. I know."

Harry's heartbeat sped up. "What are you talking about?"

"I've seen the way you two look at each other when you think no one else is looking."

"Me and who?"

"Harry, are we really going to do it the hard way?" When Harry nodded, Hermione whispered, "You and Malfoy."

"Oh, God," Harry sighed, putting a hand to his forehead. "How long have you known?"

"For about…two and a half months. But I've suspected it for a long time now. Probably ever since he walked into the compartment on the train."

"But we weren't together then. We were just friends!"

"Harry, you've had a crush on him for longer than you realize."

Harry thought about this for a second. "I guess you're right. Hermione, what I want more than anything else is to be with him, but…I would really like your approval. I know I'm not going to get Ron's, but I would like at least one of my friends to be ok with it."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "Do you love him, Harry?"

"Yes. I do."

She nodded again. "I want to talk to him. Then I'll tell you whether or not I approve."

Harry sighed. "Draco's not going to like this. He didn't want anyone to know."

"Why not?"

"His father. He's…he's not the most gentle person in the world. If he found out…"

"I won't tell anyone, Harry. Now' when do you think I can talk to him?"

"I'll ask him, but there's not guarantee that he'll actually talk to you. He might just blow up at me."

"He'd do that?"

"Hermione, he may be my lover, but he's still the same old Malfoy in many ways."

"He doesn't still bug you like he used to, does he?"

"Hermione, _you're_ bugging me! Let's talk about something else."

"Ok, what do you want to talk about?" she said with a grin.

"Well…did you have a nice time last night?"

Hermione blushed. "Not like it's any of your business, but yes, I did."

"You and Ron deserved a nice night together. You never get to spend that kind of time together, and God knows you needed it."

"Not talking about anyone I would know, are you?" Ron asked, coming down the stairs from the boy's dormitory.

"Oh, not likely, Ron," Hermione said with a smile.

"So, Harry," Ron said with a grin, "Where did you spend the night?"

Hermione spoke up before Harry could. "Harry fell asleep in the Restricted Section."

"You're lucky Pince didn't catch you, mate," Ron said, yawning. Harry silently thanked God for Ron's thickness.

"Shall we go down to breakfast, then?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, definitely!" Harry exclaimed. "I'm starved!"

"Granger wants to talk to me?" Draco exploded as soon as the words were out of Harry's mouth. "And, pray tell, what reason could she have for _wanting_ to talk to me?"

"Well, it's not something you're going to like-"

"Spit it out, Harry. What does she want to talk to me about?"

Harry braced himself. "About…us."

"Us. As in, you and me. Being together." Harry nodded. He could tell that Draco was trying to contain his anger, but he wasn't doing a very good job of it. "And just how did she find out?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"She just figured it out. She said she saw the way we look at each other in the halls."

"You know, Harry, somehow that explanation really isn't working for m e."

"Well, it's the truth."

"You didn't tell her, did you?"

"No! Of course not! I don't want people to know any more than you do!"

"And why is that? You don't have a father that will beat you if he finds out that you're gay!"

"No, but I don't want your father to beat you any more that you do!"

"Well, it seems to me that he's going to find out now no matter what!"

"Hermione promised not to tell anyone."

"And I'm to trust that filthy little Mud-" he stopped himself at the look on Harry's face. "I'm sorry, Harry, it's just that…I can't trust her. Hell, I can barely trust _you_." He sighed. "That's just how I am."

"Just talk to her, Draco. It would mean a lot to me. She already knows. Talking can't do any more harm."

Draco sighed. "Alright. I'll talk to her. Tell her to meet me by the lake today after dinner."

Harry smiled and kissed him. "Thank you, Draco."

"You owe me big, Potter."

"Oh, believe me, I'll make it up to you."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "I'll hold you to that, you know."

"I'm counting on it."

Harry paced up and down the Gryffindor common room that night after dinner.

"Why are you so uptight tonight, Harry?" Ron asked worriedly.

"Uptight? I'm not uptight! I'm just restless, I guess. Too much sugar in my system. I almost wish Fred and George hadn't sent us all that candy from their joke shop."

"Well, yeah, me too, seeing as they hid a canary cream in almost every one of them!"

"Ah, yes," Harry said, smiling at the memory.

Finally deciding to calm down, Harry sat in a large armchair and waited for Hermione to get back. He stared worriedly into the fire, hoping Draco was acting at least slightly civilized. He almost jumped for joy when she came through the portrait hole with a smile on her face.

She walked over to Harry's chair and knelt down next to him. Looking into his eyes, she said, "You've got a great guy there, Harry. He loves you very much." She smiled. "You have my approval."

Harry smiled hugely. "I could kiss you right now, but I think Ron would get mad at me."

"Him and Draco both, yes." She winked at him. "And I promised him that I wouldn't tell anyone, but he didn't seem to believe me all that much."

"He's not very trusting, but you learn to love him."

"Apparently. Anyway, it's late, so I'm going to go on to bed now."

"Goodnight, Hermione. And thanks."

"No problem, Harry. 'Night!"

Harry leaned back in his chair, feeling more content than he had in a long time. It felt so good to be able to talk to someone about this, especially Hermione. She had always been the understanding one. Somehow, having her approval made everything so much less complicated.

That night, he slept better than he ever had since he and Draco became friends.

"Draco Malfoy, I love you more than words can say!"

Draco stared at him. "And…what brought that on, Harry?"

"Well, obviously you kept a civilized tongue when you were talking to Hermione last night."

"No, if I kept a civilized tongue, I would have called her what she was, but, out of love for you, I didn't. I hope you realize what lengths I go to for you, Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh, yes, terrible lengths, like not calling one of my best friends a Mudblood."

Draco looked at him. "When am I going to be bumped up to 'one of my best friends' status? So far, I've been just a friend. Well…not _just_ a friend, but you know what I mean."

"Draco…"

"What?"

"You're completely mental. Of _course_ you're one of my best friends! Honestly…"

"Well, you never told me that! How was I supposed to know?"

"I should think that would be obvious," Harry said slyly.

Draco rolled his eyes. "You need to tell me_ with words_ Harry, honestly!"

"Alright. Draco Malfoy, you are one of my best friends," he said, and kissed him.

"Right. That was all I needed."

Harry pondered him for a second. "Draco, I love you, but you're mental."

Harry and Draco sat on opposite sides of the Potions classroom. It seemed that Snape had figured it out that Harry and Draco weren't going to fight, and he was keeping them apart more than ever.

This lesson was an extremely dull one. Snape, out of supposed concern for his godson, was too preoccupied to throw many insults anyone's way.

A couple of times, Harry's mind strayed from his work, only to be jabbed in the ribs by Hermione to realize that he had been staring at Draco. By the end of the lesson, Snape fully suspected something.

"Mr. Malfoy, I would like to speak to you after the lesson, if you don't mind."

"Of course," Draco replied, looking even paler than usual. Harry gave him a smile that he hoped was encouraging, but it didn't seem to calm Draco's nerves any.

After Potions class was lunch. Harry had been starving during the lesson, but he had suddenly lost his appetite. All he could do was sit and worry about Draco. He still hadn't show up in the Great Hall. It was all he could do to force down some food when Ron asked him why he wasn't eating.

Finally, Draco walked in and sat down at the Slytherin table. Harry had relaxed for a second, but tensed up at the look that Draco shot him across the hall. Many things were said in that one, short look, but the one that spoke the loudest was, "He knows."

"You told him?" Harry yelled unbelievingly. "I can't believe you told him! You of all people!"

"What was I supposed to do? Lie?"

"Yes! I've been lying for you!"

"Not to your godfather!"

No, my…my godfather is dead. But if he were alive, then yes, I would be lying to him!" Draco looked away angrily. "Draco, love, you have to believe me, I'm just trying to protect you!" He sighed. "But I suppose that's out of the question now, seeing as Snape knows."

"Why would that make any difference?"

"Well, Snape's like your father's best friend, isn't he? He's most likely going to tell him."

"He said he wouldn't."

"And you trust him?"

"Of course I trust him! He's my godfather!"

Harry looked at him incredulously. "Right. You trust him, but not me. Why is that?"

"Harry, I do trust you. To a certain point. But I trust him more. I've known him longer, and plus, he's my _godfather_. Honestly."

Harry sighed. "All right, Draco. If you think he won't tell your father, then I'll at least pretend to trust him."

"Harry, why are you so worried about this? I mean, it's not like you're going to get beaten or anything!"

"I'm worried about it because I care about you, Draco!" He smiled. "You're no good to me if you're beaten to a bloody pulp, you know!"

Draco sighed. "If you say so, Harry."

"Hey, Draco, stop worrying. I worry enough for the both of us. I won't let anything happen to you. I promise."

"Thanks, Harry," Draco said, not looking very reassured at all.

A little less than two weeks passed, and the day before the Yule Ball arrived. Everyone was riled up about it, talking about what they were going to wear and who was going with who. Everyone was wrapped up in pre-Ball excitement. Everyone, that is, except Harry.

"So, Harry," Seamus said. "Who are you going to the Ball with?"

"Oh, I'm not going with anyone," Harry said, looking at his feet.

"Sure, that's just what you're saying," Neville chimed in with a grin. "You're just keeping it a secret, aren't you?"

"Yeah, that's it!" Seamus said excitedly. "You just don't want people to know until the Ball!"

"Well, the two of you are going to be extremely surprised when you see me at the Ball without a date," Harry said gloomily.

"Yeah, sure," Neville said with a wink.

While everyone was counting the minutes until the Ball started, Harry was counting the minutes until it was over. It was a long way off. All through the night before, he had dreamed of going to the Ball with Draco, dancing and laughing as if they were the only two people in the world. Finally, when he had woken up, he realized that it was never going to happen.

When the time came around for the Ball, all the students waited for Professor McGonagall to open the doors to the Great Hall. Harry scanned the crowd, looking for Draco, but he was nowhere to be seen. A great, overwhelming worry came over him, but just then, McGonagall opened the doors and everyone rushed in, pushing him along with the flow.

Dumbledore had once again commissioned the Weird Sisters to play for the Ball, and the Great Hall was done up in tinsel, holly, and, to Harry's disgust, mistletoe.

_Oh well,_ he thought. _Might as well try to enjoy myself._ He grabbed a cup of punch and sat down in a nearby chair. He watched Ron and Hermione dancing for a moment, letting his thoughts wander wherever they pleased. He was so caught up in his reflections that he didn't notice that Draco had walked in.

"Harry," he said, coming up behind his chair.

Harry gave a start and turned around to talk to him. "Draco!" he exclaimed. Suddenly, he realized he was in a room full of his classmates. "Er, I mean, Malfoy! What do you want?"

"I want to talk to you!" He was looking very excited. "Over here!"

Harry followed him over to a wall. "Draco, what're you-"

Draco muffled the rest of Harry's sentence by forcing him up against the wall and kissing him ferociously for a good two minutes.

"Bloody hell, are you mental?" Harry exclaimed as soon as Draco had stopped kissing him. "You're completely blown it! Look at all the people staring at us! Now your father is going to find out for sure!"

Draco shook his head. "No he won't!"

"What makes you so bloody confident?"

"This!" Draco said happily, brandishing a letter. "It's from my father! He already knows!"

"Draco, have you gone mad? That's a bad thing, isn't it?"

"Not anymore! He disowned me!"

"Er…I'm sorry?"

"Can it, you git. Can't you see? This means we can go public without worrying about what people will say!"

Realization dawned on Harry. "Draco, that's _great_!" he exclaimed, kissing him long and hard.

"But where will you stay?" Harry asked when they broke the kiss.

"Severus says that I can stay with him, even though technically, he's not my godfather anymore."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "And do you _want_ to stay at Snape's place?"

Draco took a deep breath. "Not really. I mean, he's great and all, but perhaps you could stay at this place I know of. It used to be my Godfather's house, but right now, it's being used for…other purposes. You might be able to stay there, but you'd have to swear allegiance to our side of the war."

"Oh, believe me, I plan to."

"Great! Now, I've been dying to dance with you at this thing ever since we got together!"

"Oh, really? Then dance we shall!"

And dance they did, earning a few disgusted looks from onlookers and more than his own fair share of horrified looks from Ron, but neither of them noticed. In their own little world, there was only Harry and Draco. It was the best night of Harry's life, and both he and Draco were extremely disappointed to see it end.

Later that night, as they lay wrapped up in each other's arms in Draco's room, Harry said, "You know, Draco, seeing as you've been disowned, you're going to need a new last name."

"Yeah," Draco said sleepily. "I'll think up a new one in the morning."

"Well, actually, Draco…I was thinking maybe you could use mine."

Draco propped himself up on his elbow and looked at Harry. "What exactly are you saying?"

"I'm…I'm asking you to marry me."

Draco smiled hugely. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing would come out. So, in the absence of words, he gave Harry the most wonderful kiss he had ever gotten.

"I guess I'll take that as a yes!" Harry said happily.

"If you didn't, you'd be a fool. Of course I'll marry you!" He snuggled into Harry. "Although…no offence, but I'd rather try to keep my old last name. I mean, Draco Potter?"

"Ugh!" Harry commented, laughing. "Yes, lets see if you're allowed to keep that old last name of yours."

"Do, let's."

And so, the two young lovers fell asleep, dreaming pleasant dreams of the wedding and their life ahead.

Fin


	4. Chapter 4

**Moving On**

"Malfoy…" Ron muttered for the ten-thousandth time, shaking his head. "Of all the people in the world…"

He'd been doing this every time Harry was in earshot. Harry tried his hardest to ignore it, but it was impossible. The only two people who were still somewhat civil to him were Draco and Hermione.

His relationship with his two best friends had never been worse. Ron wasn't speaking to him, and because of this, Hermione wasn't speaking to Ron.

"Harry, really," Draco said to him one night. "Don't let it get to you. If he's too think to understand this, then you don't need him!" As much as Harry hated to hear Draco talk like that about his friends, he had to admit it was the truth.

Finally, Harry had had enough. He was sick to death of Ron ignoring him.

Seeing as Ron wouldn't listen to him, he asked Hermione to speak to Ron for him.

"Harry, you know I'm not speaking to him!" Hermione protested, not looking up from her book.

"Well, he won't listen to me! How else are we going to sort this out?"

"Why don't _you_ talk to him? If he doesn't listen to you, then it's his own misfortune." As Harry opened his mouth to protest, she added, "It can't hurt to try."

But, unfortunately, it _could_ hurt to try. At least, in Harry's mind it could. It took him three weeks to muster up the courage to talk to Ron.

One February night, Ron went up to the dormitory to get his sweater, and Harry spotted the perfect chance to talk to him alone.

"Ron," he said, walking through the door.

Ron continued shuffling through his trunk as though no one else was around.

Harry sighed. "Ron, I know you're not thrilled about Draco and I, but that's hardly any reason to stop talking to me!" Ron still acted oblivious to the fact that there was another person in the room. Harry's anger grew. "I thought you were my friend, Ron! We've been through worse than this! Why should we end our friendship over such a little thing as me being gay?"

"It's not about that, Harry!" Ron yelled suddenly. "I don't care if you're gay! I'm glad you've found someone you can love!"

"Well, then what is it about?"

"It's about him!" Ron said, close to tears. "You know what he's about! You know what he thinks about me and my family! How can you lecture me about being friends? _You're_ the backstabber here!"

Harry looked at him incredulously. "Ron, you could have talked to me about this," he said softly. "He's not as bad as you think he is anymore, and he's trying so hard to change. He really is."

"But he won't! People like him _can't_ change, Harry! That's just the way it is!"

"You don't know that, Ron! Just give him a chance."

Ron considered it for a moment, and sighed in defeat. "I will if he will, I suppose."

Harry smiled hugely. "Thanks, mate."

Ron shook his head. "I must be out of my mind."

"Weasley wants to be my friend now, does he?" Draco asked offhandedly.

Harry sighed. "Not exactly. He'll agree to give you a chance if you'll agree to give _him_ a chance."

Draco smirked. "Well, maybe I won't agree to give him a chance until he agrees to give _me_ a chance!"

"Draco, don't be difficult!" Harry whined.

"Alright, love," Draco laughed, kissing his fiancée's forehead. "I was just joking. You go tell your precious Weasel that I'll attempt to be civil to him."

Harry laughed. "Tell him yourself, you little ferret!" Seeing Draco's hurt look, he wrapped his arms around him. "I'm just teasing, Drake. But, seriously, you need to tell him yourself." Draco raised his eyebrow. Harry put on his puppy face and said in a whinny voice, "It would mean a lot to me, love."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Damn you. You know I can't resist that!"

Walking down to breakfast the next day, Harry, Ron, and Hermione talked livelier than they had since the beginning of Harry and Draco's relationship together. Harry smiled to see Ron and Hermione holding hands again.

In the entrance hall, Draco came up behind the trio and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Hey, love," he said. To anyone else, he would have looked just the same as he always did, but Harry could see that Draco was abso-bloody-lutely nervous. Draco turned to Ron. "Er…Wea- I mean, Ron, may I speak to you? In private?"

"Er…ok," Ron said, looking to Harry for help. Harry just smiled and shrugged, so Ron had no choice but to accompany Draco to a secluded corner of the entrance hall.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked Harry.

"Well, I believe Draco's talking to Ron about the two of them getting along."

Hermione stared at him. "Well, that's going to take a lot of work!"

"Yes but, for the sake of my friendship, I think they'll work it out."

Over in their corner, Draco stuck out his hand. Ron hesitated for a moment, clearly having an inner conflict with himself. Finally, he shook Draco's hand and they returned to Harry and Hermione.

"Did you work everything out?" Harry asked when they joined the group.

"I suppose so," Ron grumbled, placing an arm around Hermione's waist.

"You'll warm up to me eventually, Wea- Ron," Draco said, and took Harry's hand.

Ron rolled his eyes, but kept his opinions to himself.

Walking into the Great Hall, Harry and Draco earned more than a few glares and stink-eyes.

"Damn homophobes," Draco commented. "I think I might skip breakfast today. Or for the rest of the school year."

"No way, Drake," Harry said sternly. "You skip enough meals, you anorexic freak! Now, go eat!"

"I am not anorexic," Draco whined, but complied.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all sat down at the Gryffindor table. Luckily for Harry, most of the Gryffindors were fine with his sexual persuasion.

The Slytherins, on the other hand, were avoiding Draco altogether. In a single night, he had gone from the most loved Slytherin to the most hated. They wouldn't even sit near him at their table.

Draco sat down at the very end of his table, looking sadly at his housemates, and began to eat.

Harry watched him longingly, wishing he could sit with him, let him know that everything was going to be alright.

Ron noticed his look. "Honestly, Harry, you two don't have to be together all the time! Besides, you're only two tables apart!"

"Yeah, well, how would you feel if you and Hermione were two tables away from each other?" Harry grumbled.

Ron grabbed Hermione's hand, looking horrified. "Don't even joke about that!"

Transfiguration, that day, was one of the more difficult days. McGonagall had them all transfiguring feathers into ten-pound weights.

Suddenly, an explosion came from Harry's right. He looked over quickly to see Draco, face covered in soot, staring at what Harry assumed used to be his feather.

"Mister Malfoy, perhaps you should get a new feather," McGonagall suggested. "And this time, be more careful."

"Yes, Professor," Draco said obligingly. On his way back from getting his feather, Draco placed a note on Harry's desk and trailed his fingers discreetly across Harry's back.

Harry's senses went wild, causing him to lose his concentration on the spell he was doing. His arm jerked up, sending his spell directly at McGonagall.

The class erupted in laughter as the professor disappeared in a cloud of smoke and reappeared as a newt.

With a pop, McGonagall transformed herself back. "Ten points each from Gryffindor and Slytherin. I suggest you keep your hands to yourself, Mister Malfoy."

Harry sniggered at Draco's indignant look and winked at him.

_Read the note_, Draco mouthed at him, and Harry nodded.

Opening the note, Harry read:

_H,_

_I would like to talk to you tonight. This conversation may last a while, so prepare for a long night._

_I love you._

_D._

Harry grinned and shook his head. Draco. Always so formal. He caught his fiancée's eye and nodded to show that he'd be there.

After being forced to sit through five hours of classes and two meals, Harry was finally able to meet Draco outside Slytherin house.

"What's this all about, Draco?" Harry asked.

"Come on, we'll talk about this in my room," Draco said, taking Harry's hand.

Walking through the Slytherin common room, Harry was surprised that all the Slytherins didn't spring out of their seats and rip both their throats out.

"Do they always look at you like that?" Harry asked him softly.

"Yeah, pretty much," Draco said, opening the door to his private Prefect room.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Harry asked once they were inside.

Draco sighed. "Father has decided to…oh, I don't know what the word is…_re-own_ me, maybe."

"What are you saying?"

"He's reclaimed me as his son."

"What?" Harry exclaimed. "Why?"

Draco shook his head. "I don't know. But he's going to force me to get the Mark."

Harry's eyes grew wide. "Draco, you're not going to take it, are you?"

"I don't see what choice I have!" He sat on his bed and buried his face in his hands.

"Oh, Drake," Harry said, sitting next to him and hugging him tightly. "Do you know when your father scheduled you to get it?"

Draco nodded. "He says it'll be sometime in July."

"You know…" Harry started thoughtfully. "There is that wizarding law that no one's ever changed…"

Draco snorted. "Which one?"

"The one that says that once a child is married, their father has no hold over them anymore."

"Harry…that was more for medieval times."

"Yes, but they've never gotten rid of it!"

Draco looked at him. "So…what are you saying exactly?"

"I'm saying, let's set a wedding date for sometime in June! After that, your father can't do anything to you!"

Draco's eyes lit up. "You know, you're right!" He flung his arms around Harry. "I love you, Harry!"

Harry wrapped his arms around Draco and buried his face in his hair. "I love you, too."

"So, let me get this straight," Ron whispered during history of magic the next day. "Draco's father disowned him, only to reclaim him and force him to get the Dark Mark. And now you two are going to get married to try and hide behind the law so that he won't have to get the Mark."

"Basically…yeah, that's the idea."

Ron nodded slowly. "Ok…I guess I'm good with that…"

Hermione nudged him. "What he's trying to say, Harry, is that we're both very happy that you two are going to get married and that we'd like to tear Lucius Malfoy's throat out."

Harry laughed. "Wouldn't we all? Now…you two know that you and your families are all invited to the wedding…" Harry looked slightly uncomfortable. "I mean, if you don't feel comfortable with it, it's fine, but I would really appreciate it…"

"Of course we'll come, Harry," Hermione said warmly. "Won't we, Ron?"

"Well, sure, _I'll_ come, but good luck getting the rest of my family there!"

"Oh, Ron, honestly! Just tell them to come for Harry and not Draco if they're going to be so freaked out about it!"

Harry grinned to himself. He liked to hear Ron and Hermione bickering like their old selves again.

"So, Harry," Hermione said, getting back to the subject, "what date are you two thinking of?"

"Well, I think we both agreed that it would be June 17th."

"June 17th…" Ron mused. "Yeah, I can do that, I think."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You'd better!"

A painstakingly long four months passed, and, finally, the day before the wedding arrived.

Harry and Draco were in the middle of a _very_ long, _very_ passionate kiss, when suddenly, Harry pulled out of the kiss, grasping his scar.

"Harry, are you alright?" Draco asked worriedly.

"Yeah…" Harry breathed slowly. "Yeah, I think I'm ok now."

"What was that?"

"I'm not sure. My scar just…I don't know. I'll be alright."

"Do…do you think we should postpone the wedding?"

"No!" Harry shouted. He collected himself. "No," he said, more calmly. "I swear, I'll be fine. Now, let's just get back to where we were, shall we?" he said, leaning in for another kiss.

Draco pulled back. "I don't know how it is for you, Harry, but being worried to death about you is…kinda a pretty big mood-killer."

Harry sighed. "Alright. Fine. We should probably get some sleep anyway, tomorrow being the big day and all."

"Harry, don't take it that way."

"What way? I'm not taking it any way!"

"I'm just worried about you, okay?"

"I know you are. Just…try not to be, ok?"

Draco wrapped his arms around him. "I'll try. I'm not making any promises, but I'll try."

Finally, the big day arrived. Ron was in Harry's dressing room, helping him get ready.

"Not nervous, are you?" Ron asked.

Harry grinned. "Are you kidding me?" He took a deep breath. "Well, maybe a _little_ nervous, but that's definitely not going to stop me!"

Ron chuckled. "You'd better not, after all you've put everyone through!"

The wedding started off perfectly. They had decided that Draco would stand up at the altar and Harry would walk down the isle.

Walking up towards his soon-to-be husband, Harry felt pure joy. He swore he'd found his new Patronus memory. This was, to use a clichéd phrase, the happiest day of his life.

He got up to the altar and took Draco's hand. They smiled at each other, and Molly Weasley let out a great, loud, sob in the pews. Harry rolled his eyes at Draco, who grinned.

Albus Dumbledore smiled down at the two boys. "Are two ready?" he whispered.

"Never been more ready," Harry said with a smile, squeezing Draco's hand.

"Very well," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. "Ladies and Gentlemen, we are gathered here today to witness the binding of Harry James Potter and Draco Lucius Malfoy." He turned to Draco.

"Draco, do you take Harry to be your husband, to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?"

Draco smiled. "I do."

Dumbledore nodded and turned to Harry. "Harry, do you take Draco to be your husband, to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

"Then, by the power vested in me, I now proclaim you-"

Suddenly, Harry cried out in pain and clutched his scar again.

"Harry?" Draco asked worriedly. "Harry, what's wrong?"

"Agh!" Harry screamed again, and passed out on the altar.

Draco leaned over Harry's limp body and shook him. "Harry!"


	5. Chapter 5

Vengeance

It was two weeks after Harry had collapsed at the wedding, and he was still unconscious. His condition hadn't gotten any better; if anything, it had worsened.

Draco hadn't left Harry's bedside at all. Either Ron or Hermione had brought him all his meals. This evening, it was Hermione's turn.

"Hasn't woken up, has he?" Hermione asked, as she did every time she came in.

Draco gave a half-hearted smile and responded the same way he did every time. "If he had, you would've known that very second."

Hermione sighed and said something new. "Draco…this isn't healthy for you. You need to get out."

Draco shook his head. "I won't leave him. What if he has another attack?" Harry had been having convulsive episodes every now and then ever since he had collapsed. "Or what if he wakes up and I'm not here?"

Hermione sighed and stroked Draco's hair. "Draco, we have to consider the possibility that…" she took a deep breath, "that Harry might _not_ wake up at all."

"No, Hermione! I can't give up on him like that!"

"I'm not asking you to give up, I'm just asking that you not give yourself false hope."

Draco smiled sadly at her. "Thanks for the concern, Hermione, but I'll be fine. I promise."

Hermione sighed. "Well, here's your dinner, in any case. Oh, and Dumbledore has some news about Harry's condition that he's going to share at the Order meeting tonight. Are you going to come, or do you want me to take notes for you?"

Draco considered it for a moment. "I suppose I'll come," he said finally.

"Good. You've needed to get some new scenery. By the way, Snape is going to be at the meeting. He wants to talk to you."

"Alright. I'll see you at the meeting tonight."

That night, at the meeting, Dumbledore let out his news.

"After some researching and a little work from Professor Snape," Dumbledore said, gesturing to the professor, "we have come to the conclusion that Harry may be kept in this situation by none-other than Voldemort himself."

"Wait, you're saying that You-Know-Who is doing this to him?" Draco blurted out.

"Draco, hush," Snape said softly.

"Unfortunately, yes, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said solemnly. "It does appear that the Dark Lord is causing Harry's condition, although why is anyone's guess. We will, of course, have our spies doing everything possible to find this out," he said with a nod at Snape. "And, Mr. Malfoy, I must ask that you not do anything rash. The last thing we need now is for you to run off and get yourself killed."

Draco nodded. "Sure. I'll just…stay around here."

"Very well," Dumbledore responded. "Now, if there's nothing else, then I call this meeting adjourned."

While everyone else was leaving, Snape pulled Draco over out of the commotion. "Good evening, Draco. How are you holding up?"

Draco sighed. "I'm ok, I guess. Why do you ask?"

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Because I was worried about the wellbeing of my godson! Is that a crime?"

Draco smiled. "No, of course not."

Snape sighed and looked uncomfortable. "Now, Draco, I hate to have to tell you this, but your father is not considering your marriage binding."

"What?" Draco asked in disbelief. "Why in Merlin's name not?

"He is claiming that the wedding was not fully completed, and therefore is not a legal, binding marriage. And, of course, the ministry will agree with him. He still holds a lot of power over them."

"So, what you're saying is that he still has a claim over me?"

Snape nodded. "That's exactly what I'm saying, Draco. But believe me, if you don't want to take the mark, I will do everything in my power to insure that you don't have to take it."

Draco, unable to express his gratitude with words, threw his arms around his godfather.

Snape, who was unaccustomed with physical contact of any sort, awkwardly hugged him back. "I promise that you will be safe, Draco. No matter what."

Draco sat on Harry's bed and stroked his husband's hair back. "I don't care what father says, or anyone else for that matter! We _are_ married!" He leaned in and kissed Harry's forehead.

Suddenly, Harry convulsed and writhed as if he were in enormous pain.

"Harry!" Draco exclaimed, grabbing his hand. "Harry, listen to me, you're going to be alright! You can fight this!" Harry's convulsions had been becoming ever more frequent for the last few days, as Voldemort continued to become stronger.

It pained Draco to know that there was no way for him to ease Harry's pain when the attacks started. The best he could do was hold his husband's hand and pray that it would be over soon.

They were in luck; this attack lasted only five minutes, which was quite short compared to the longest one, which had been twenty minutes. Finally, Harry seemed to calm down, and his body relaxed slightly, but he still kept a death-grip on Draco's hand. This was how it always went, and somehow, knowing that Harry's hand stayed tight on his own when the rest of his body went limp comforted Draco in some small way. It felt as if, just maybe, Harry knew he was there.

"I can't take this any longer," Draco said suddenly. "I don't care what Dumbledore says, I can't just sit here and watch you die." He sadly pried his hand out of Harry's grip and planted a kiss on his scar. "I love you," he whispered, and silently slipped out of the room.

Hermione came up the next day to give Draco his breakfast. True, it was Ron's turn today, but she had volunteered to do it again. Draco always seemed to open up more around her, even though he and Ron had bonded tightly over the whole Harry situation. She felt that she could get him to talk to her, and heaven knew that boy certainly need someone to talk to.

"Draco? I've got your breakfast," she said, coming through the door. "I've-" She stopped short, seeing that Draco was not in the room. There was only one reason that he would leave Harry's side. "Draco Malfoy, you _fool_!" she cried, and ran to alert Dumbledore and the rest of the Order.

"He must have gone to confront Voldemort," she concluded during the emergency meeting of the Order that Dumbledore had called.

"I find it hard to believe that Draco would do something like this," Snape said grumpily.

"Do you have a better suggestion, _Professor_?" Hermione asked mockingly.

"You would do well to not take that tone of voice with me, Miss Granger," Snape said dangerously.

"You _both_ would do well to say nothing else to each other for the remainder of this meeting," Dumbledore warned.

"Yes, sir," they grumbled together. Hermione took a seat next to Ron, who put a comforting arm around her and glared at Snape.

"We need to band together more than ever now," Dumbledore said solemnly. "There can be no bickering among us at such a dire time. Are we absolutely sure that he couldn't have gone anywhere other than to Voldemort?"

"Actually, Albus," Snape spoke up, "I spoke with him last night and informed him Lucius was not considering Draco's marriage binding. He may have gone to confront him."

"So, what everyone's saying is that no matter where he's gone, he's screwed," Ron said bluntly.

"As graphic a description as that is, Mr. Weasley, it would appear to be accurate," Dumbledore said sadly.

"What do we do?" Tonks spoke up.

"Albus instructed Mr. Malfoy not to do anything rash," Remus pointed out. "Perhaps he took that to mean 'don't go to Voldemort', so he went to his father."

"I suppose that makes sense," Snape agreed reluctantly. In the matter of his missing godson, he was willing to let bygones be bygones until Draco was safely back. But only until then.

"Very well," Dumbledore said, taking control again. "We shall send people to Malfoy Manor to check on that." He turned to Snape. "Would it be too much to ask you to go to Voldemort?"

"Certainly not," Snape responded.

"Professor Dumbledore," Ron piped up, "I would like to help somehow."

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry, Ron, but I just cannot allow you, or Ms. Granger, to get involved. I am not willing to risk any more of our youths."

Ron nodded in understanding. "Of course, sir."

"Very well. This meeting is adjourned."

In actuality, the thought of confronting his father hadn't crossed Draco's mind in the least. His sole thought was to stop the creature that was causing Harry this excruciating pain.

Draco used one of the secret passages to gain entrance to Voldemort's lair. He realized with a pang that this was the same passage he had led Harry through to safety almost a year ago.

As he passed the door to the Pensieve Room, as he and Harry had jokingly named it, a wave of sadness crossed over him and had to lean against the doorway and close his eyes to regain his composure.

What was he doing here, he wondered? This was no way to help Harry. This was just a way to get _himself_ killed! He should have let Severus or someone else handle this. But no matter now. He was here; it was too late to go back. If all he could do was get killed, then at least he could say that he tried to save the one person he loved.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself staring at the imposing figure of Lucius Malfoy.

"Father!" he exclaimed, almost falling over backwards.

"Do not call me father, you ungrateful little brat! You turned your back on your family, but I forgave you! I took you back as my son! And how do you repay me? By betraying our Lord! You revolt me, you worthless piece of scum! I always knew you'd turn out bad!"

"I'm not the one who turned out bad, _father_," Draco sneered.

Lucius sneered back. "How _dare_ you?" he roared, whipping out his wand.

"Oh, come now, _father_, you wouldn't really hurt your own son," Draco mocked, egging him on.

"Crucio!" Lucius shouted.

Draco's senses exploded with pain and he collapsed to the floor. Lucius stood over him, laughing, for a good fifteen minutes, just enjoying the sight of his son in pain.

Finally, he lifted the curse so that he could gloat, but Draco was the first to speak.

"Really, now, father, is that the best you can do? Your curses used to hurt so much more!"

Lucius scowled and raised his wand to put the curse back on his son, when someone jumped between Draco and the wand. Someone with fiery red hair…

"Ron!" Draco cried. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

"I'm saving you, you prat!" Ron said as if this were the most obvious thing in the world.

Lucius roared with laughter. "Oh, Draco, you've sunk to a new low! I mean, being saved by a _Weasley_!"

"Crucio!" Ron yelled with fury, and Lucius fell to the floor, writhing.

Ron backed away from the screaming man. "Oh, Merlin, what've I done?"

"I'll tell you what you've done," Draco said from the floor. "You've done something that I should have done a long time ago. Now, would you please help me up?"

Ron grasped his friend's arm and pulled him to his feet. "I used a forbidden curse!" he breathed, unable to believe that he had actually done it.

"Yes, well, I'm about to use a worse one," Draco said tonelessly. "Avada Kedavra!"

His father instantly stopped writhing, and Draco slowly lowered his wand. Ron stood, staring at Draco, unable to believe that someone could use such a terrible curse on another human being and show absolutely no emotion about it, as Draco was now.

After a few minutes, Draco said, "Well, I'd better get going."

"Going where?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"To finish what I came here to do, obviously!" He hesitated. "I don't want to put you in harm's way, Ron, but I could probably use some help…"

Ron sighed. "There's no way I can persuade you to come back with me?"

"No. None."

"Well, then, I can't just let you stay here and die all alone! I just…I wish I'd said goodbye to Hermione…"

"Don't think like that. Be positive."

"Ok, I can do positive. Gee, I'm so glad I'm about to die without telling Hermione that I love her!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Come on."

When they arrived in Voldemort's main chamber, they were greeted by none-other than Voldemort himself. Although his back was to the two of them, he apparently knew they were there.

"Well, well, well," he said calmly in his horrible, high-pitched voice. "If it isn't young Master Malfoy and his newfound friend. It's such a delight to have you both here!"

"Please, my lord," Draco begged. "All I want is for you to stop hurting Harry."

"I apologize, Master Malfoy, but I can not."

Draco sighed. "It was worth a try."

"Indeed it was, young one, but unfortunately, we must now do it _my_ way." Draco and Ron pulled out their wands and got in defensive stances, but Voldemort waved the back of his hand at them. "You need not get defensive, young ones. You are only children, so it seems only fair to me that you get the chance to attack me head-on." He turned to face them. "After all, when you are dead, you will be able to say that you got one hit in against the great Lord Voldemort."

Draco and Ron looked at each other. Could this be a trick? But it was apparently a sincere offer, so they both raised their wands.

"Avada Kedavra!" they shouted together, their voices echoing off the stone walls. Green blasts shot out of the ends of their wands, knocking Voldemort off his feet and throwing him against the far wall.

The two boys braced themselves for when the dreaded Dark Lord would arise again, but he just lay in a heap at the bottom of the wall.

"There's no way," Ron said breathlessly. "Absolutely no way! We're not powerful enough! Are we?"

"I don't know…I thought only Harry was able to…" Draco said, waking slowly over to the seemingly unconscious man lying on the floor. Very warily, he checked the pulse. "Ron…" he said, not believing what he was feeling, "Ron, he's…he's _dead_! We killed him!"

"But how is that possible?"

"Who cares? We killed the Dark Lord!"

The two boys Apparated back to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place with huge grins on their faces, fully prepared to take credit for You-Know-Who's downfall. However, when they arrived in the kitchen, the smiles disappeared from their faces immediately.

Remus, Tonks, and Hermione all sat, tears in their eyes, at the table. Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape all stood around, looking equally glum, although perhaps less so on Snape's part.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, a growing feeling of despair settling in his stomach.

"You're back!" Hermione exclaimed. She flew around the table and engulfed Ron in a huge hug. "I was so worried!"

"That's not what you're all upset about, is it?" Ron asked.

Hermione pulled back. "N-no…that was part of it, but…it's bigger than that…"

"What is it?"

Snape piped up. "Draco," he said gently. "I suggest you sit down before we tell you this."

"I prefer to stand," Draco said haughtily. "Now, what is it?"

Hermione took Draco's hand comfortingly. "Draco, please don't take this too hard, but…" she took a deep breath. "Draco, Harry's dead."

Draco's world came crashing down around his head, and everything went black.

To Be Continued….


	6. Chapter 6

**A Living Nightmare**

Draco woke up an hour later on a sofa in the sitting room of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. At first, he couldn't remember how he had gotten here, but, seeing Ron sitting in a chair next to him, looking as if the world had ended, the memories rushed back to him.

"Ron," he muttered softly.

Ron gave a start and looked over at him. "Oh, Draco. You're awake." He sniffled. "I hadn't noticed."

"Please, Ron," Draco begged. "Tell me it was just a nightmare. Please!"

Ron shook his head sadly. "Sorry, mate. It's not a nightmare. Harry's dea-"

"_No_!" Draco shouted, covering his ears. "No, it's not true! It can't be!"

"Draco," Ron said, prying the sobbing boy's hands from his ears. "Draco, I know it's hard to face, but you have to face it eventually!" Draco covered his face and refused to be reasoned with. Ron sighed and decided to call in Hermione. She knew how to handle these situations.

When Hermione opened the door, she found Draco sobbing into Ron's shoulder, with Ron patting his shoulder awkwardly and not looking extremely comfortable about it. When she walked through the door, Ron looked up and gave her a relieved smile.

"Hey," she said softly. He responded with a look as if to say 'Don't just stand there! Help me!'

She sat down behind Draco and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Draco," she whispered. When he didn't respond, she continued, "Draco…I told you not to give yourself false hope. Harry wasn't going to come out of that, and you knew it." She resorted to the oldest (and lamest) comforting thing to say in the book. "Draco, he was in a lot of pain. and we should be glad that he doesn't feel it anymore." It was lucky that Draco still had his face buried in Ron's shoulder; otherwise, he would see that she didn't believe a word she was saying.

She squeezed his shoulder. "Draco, I know it hurts, but-"

"You have no idea," Draco sobbed suddenly. "You have no _idea_ how much it hurts!"

Hermione sighed. "No. I don't." She thought for a moment. What could she do to make it easier for Draco? Probably nothing, she admitted. "Draco…would it help you at all to see his body?"

Draco looked up at her and sniffled. "Maybe a little, I guess."

"Aright. I'll take you to him."

Harry's body was in the same room he had spent his last few weeks alive in. He was still lying on the bed, a calm look on his face. For a second, Draco could almost fool himself into believing that Harry was just asleep, but when he brushed a hand across his face, he was ice-cold.

Hermione shut the door and left Draco alone with his husband's body.

Draco sat on the bed, tears falling down his face. "Harry, I'm so sorry," he whispered, laying his head on the dead boy's chest. "I should have been here! If only I hadn't been so stupid…" He sniffled. "Maybe I could have helped you."

The door opened behind him, and Snape slipped silently in. "I thought I'd find you here," he said softly.

Draco bolted up and whirled around. "Oh, it's you, Severus." He quickly wiped the tears from his eyes. "Did you want something?"

"Yes, actually, I would like to speak with you concerning… concerning Potter's death. Am I correct in thinking that you would rather hear this somewhere else?"

"Yes, of course." He followed Snape out of the room. "What is it you wanted to tell me?"

"I assume Potter has informed you of the connection between himself and the Dark Lord?"

"Yes, he has."

"Dumbledore and I have some speculation on that. We believe that, because of this, if either Harry or the Dark Lord died, the other would die also."

"So, what are you saying exactly?"

"What I'm saying is that, since Potter is dead, Voldemort may be dead also!"

Draco's eyes grew wide. "Yes, I know…Ron and I killed him!"

"What?"

"We killed him! We performed the Killing Curse at the same time, and we killed him!"

"How is that possible?"

"We don't know. He just…died. Which means…" A horrified look came over his face. "We…we killed Harry! _I_ killed Harry!"

"Now, Draco, you mustn't think like that. It's more likely that Voldemort died because Potter died."

Draco thought for a second. "Did Harry die during one of his attacks?"

"Yes, he did, but I don't see what that has to do with -"

"Then no matter what, I'm to blame! The attacks only happened when Voldemort was feeling extremely murderous, or had some surge of emotion. When we attacked him, he was feeling both! If Harry died from the attack, then I'm to blame, and if he died from Voldemort dying, then I'm _still_ to blame! This is all my fault. I should have stayed here!"

"Please, Draco, don't beat yourself up over this."

"It's too late for that."

_I'm on a cruise! _Draco thought delightedly, as he leaned over the railing of the grand ship. He was on the port side, looking at a small, deserted island. _This is just what I need, after everything that's happened!_ That thought brought everything back to him. All that's happened? Then why on earth was he on a cruise ship? _This must be a dream._

Just as he thought this, he heard Harry's voice calling to him. "Draco!"

"Harry?" Draco shouted, looking all about him. "Harry, where are you?"

"Draco, help me!" Harry yelled back, and Draco realized the voice was coming from the island, and, sure enough, when he looked over, there was Harry, standing on the beach. "Help me!" Harry shouted once again.

Draco looked all around himself for something he could use to get Harry off that island, to bring Harry back to him. "How, Harry?" he shouted. "How do I help you?"

Everything became foggy, and Draco realized he was waking up. "No," he said, groggily. "No, I don't want to wake up…_Harry_!" He yelled his husband's name and sat up in his bed, tears leaking from his eyes.

At first, Draco considered just going back to sleep, until he remembered that Severus was staying at #12 Grimmauld place lately while he was doing some work around the area. Draco eagerly ran to his room.

"Severus!" he yelled, slamming his godfather's door open so hard that it rammed into the wall.

Snape sat bolt upright. "What is it, Draco?"

"You're good at interpreting dreams, right?"

"If the occasion calls for it, then yes, I am a fair dream interpreter."

"Believe me, the occasion calls for it!"

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, never at three in the morning does the occasion call for it!"

"Please, Severus? Just let me tell you the dream before I forget it!" His godfather sighed and nodded. "Good. It started off with a cruise…"

He relayed the dream to Snape, who shook his head and said, "Draco, I'm sorry, but all that I can see this dream means is that you miss Potter, and you wish that you could have saved him, but there was nothing you could have done." He pondered it a moment. "It also may have something to do with the funeral today."

Draco groaned. "Oh, right. The funeral."

"Draco, if you don't want to go-"

"Of course I want to go! I couldn't be there for his death; the least I can do is be there for his funeral!"

Draco was seriously regretting that choice later on in the day. After the eulogy, people were allowed to go up to the open casket and look in on The-Boy-Who-Lived. After that, most people stood up in the back of the church, talking. Not many of them would be going to the actual funeral; that was strictly for family and friends only.

Draco was the last one to go up to see Harry. He walked slowly up to the altar, the longest walk of his life. He gently caressed Harry's calm, peaceful face. Choking back tears, he lifted one of Harry hand and placed a single, white lily under it, before placing it back on Harry's chest.

"I love you," he whispered, and closed the casket lid.

He went through the funeral in a daze. He couldn't believe that they were going to stick the one person he loved in the cold, hard ground, and that he was just going to let them do it. The mourners stood around the grave, and each said a few words about Harry. But when Draco's turn came, the words wouldn't come. There were no words to describe the love that he had found in Harry, nor were there words to describe the pain that he felt now that Harry was gone.

He barely felt Hermione's hand on his back when she placed it there. "It's alright, Draco," she said softly, and they moved on to Ron.

When the service was over, they all took a clump of dirt and dropped it into the grave. This, for Draco, was the worst part. That final thud the dirt made when it hit the coffin pained Draco more than anything else. With that thud, he sealed Harry's grave; cut him off from the only person to ever love him. That thud forced Draco to admit that Harry was gone. And he was not coming back.

That night, Draco had another dream about Harry. He was standing at the top of the grave, looking down into Harry's open coffin. A single tear slid out of Draco's eye and landed on Harry's cheek.

Suddenly, Harry's eyes opened and stared straight at Draco. "Help me!" the corpse whispered.

Draco woke up screaming, and even Snape couldn't understand the meaning of this dream.

Draco spent that day contemplating suicide. True, it wasn't the most wonderful subject to consider, but it certainly looked better than what he had been going through, and maybe it would mean that he and Harry could be together again.

"Draco, really," Hermione said comfortingly, "eventually, the pain will dull. You'll hardly notice it's there!"

"But it will never go away," he responded matter-of-factly.

Nothing anyone said would ever make him feel better, but he decided to leave the suicidal thoughts for another day.

That night, Draco had the oddest dream yet. He was in his room when Harry walked in.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Harry cut him off. "Don't talk, just listen. I don't have much time. Draco, I've been buried alive! Well, technically, I haven't, since I was dead when I was buried, but I'm alive again, Draco! Please, you have to believe me! You have to get me out of this grave or I'll die again!"

"I believe you, Harry!" Draco responded. "I do! I'll get you out!"

Draco barged into Snape's room. "We're going to need some shovels."

Snape, who had been reading his _favorite_ part of his _favorite_ book, looked at him as if he had gone mad. "And what, pray tell, are we going to need shovels for?"

"Harry's alive! He came to me in a dream! We need to help him!"

"Draco, I-"

"No! Tell me how ridiculous I am later! Please, right now, just help me with this!"

Snape sighed. "Draco, legally, we cannot do this. Now, I'll floo Dumbledore and get him over here. We'll discuss how to handle this."

"Draco, really, are you sure this wasn't just wishful thinking?" Dumbledore asked softly.

"I _know_ it wasn't! He came to me, it was true, and now he's stuck in the ground, _dying_, because you both are too afraid of breaking the law to help him!"

"Draco, please, calm down," Snape said, resting a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"There is a way we could do this tonight, Draco, but I need you to do something first," Dumbledore said seriously.

"What? What is it?"

"I need you to tell me if you truly believe that Harry is alive."

"Of course I do! What kind of question-"

Dumbledore silenced him with a wave of his hand. "No, Draco. Not what you _think_. What you _feel._ Look deep inside your heart and tell me: is Harry alive?"

Draco closed his eyes and searched the deepest, most guarded place inside of him. He concentrated as hard as he could, looking for the one thing that could save Harry.

Suddenly, there it was inside of him! It was like a heartbeat that wasn't his own. It was Harry's.

"Yes," he whispered happily. "Yes, he's alive!"

Dumbledore smiled. "Well then, Severus, it looks like we've got some digging to do!"

Snape grumbled below his breath but followed Dumbledore to get some shovels.

"I want to come!" Draco said eagerly.

"No, you stay here," Snape said distractedly.

"But why? I want to help! I want to see Harry!"

"No, Draco, it's best if you stay here." Snape rolled his eyes. "It really is, just in case we get arrested."

"How can you make me stay here?"

"It's for your own safety," Dumbledore said, handing Snape a shovel.

Draco sat down in a nearby chair in a huff. "Fine. But you'd better tell me the very _moment_ you get back with him!"

Two hours later, Snape went to get Draco. He found him slumped in the chair he sat in, asleep.

Rousing his young godson, Snape said, "Draco. Draco, wake up."

Draco sat bolt upright. "Severus? Where is he? Is he all right? Did you get there in time?"

"Hush, hush," Snape said with a smile. "Come see for yourself."

He led Draco quickly to a room. Ron, Hermione, and Dumbledore were standing outside it, beaming at Draco.

"Good going, mate!" Ron said, clapping him on the back.

"Now, Ron," Hermione said, smiling. "Let him go in!"

Draco tore the door open and closed it quietly behind him. Lying on the bed, sleeping peacefully, was Harry, his husband, alive.

Draco walked over to the bed and sat down, tears in his eyes. He laid his head on Harry's sleeping chest and felt his head rise and fall with every breath his lover took.

He fell asleep to the synchronized beating of both their hearts.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

The End of All Things

Draco woke but kept his eyes shut, choosing instead to snuggle into the warm embrace that was engulfing him. He was content to just lie there in his lover's arms all day.

Harry hugged him tighter to his chest. "Morning, sunshine," he said softly.

Draco grumbled, upset at having to actually wake up.

"Oh, come now, Drake, is that any way to treat your lover? After all, I did _die_."

Memories flooded back to Draco, and his heart leapt up into his throat. "Harry!" he mumbled happily, snuggling even deeper into the loving embrace but still keeping his eyes shut. "Please tell me this isn't a dream."

"Of course it's not, love."

Draco forced his eyes open, which was no small feat. As much as he wanted to be able to look at Harry, his eyes still wanted to sleep. Finally, he won the fight and looked lovingly up at his husband. "Don't ever leave me like that again, ok?"

Harry laughed and kissed his forehead. "I can't make any promises, but I'll try. It's not like I'm going to _try_ to get myself killed!"

Draco snuggled his head protectively under Harry's chin. "You had me so scared. I couldn't have lived without you."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you would have gotten along somehow."

Draco snorted. "If I had died, would you have 'gotten along'?"

"This isn't about me, Drake, it's about you."

"Just answer the question, Harry," Draco said exasperatedly.

Harry sighed and considered the thought for a few moments. "No, I don't think I would have."

Draco smiled knowingly. He seemed to be content with Harry's answer for a few moments, until he looked up at Harry with curiosity in his eyes.

"Oh, great," Harry said in mock frustration. "Not another one of your insane questions."

Draco ignored him. "Harry, did you send me all those dreams?"

Harry looked at him curiously. "I sent you _one_ dream, I don't know about any others." He smiled. "By the way, thanks for getting Dumbledore and Snape out there so quickly."

"I couldn't very well just leave you down there to suffocate, could I?" He kissed him. "But I think I know a way you can repay me! Teach me how to send dreams, like the one you sent to me!"

"I don't know, Drake," Harry said uncertainly. "It's pretty advanced magic. It might be beyond you!"

"Hey now, Harry, is that any way to talk to the man who saved your life last night?"

"No, of course not," Harry admitted, tilting his head down to kiss his husband.

Draco pressed eagerly into the kiss, and Harry reveled in the fact that he could still make Draco shiver, even after he'd been dead for three and a half days.

Harry's tongue licked Draco's lower lip, seeking entrance, and Draco quickly opened his mouth to let the other boy in. The two boys grappled softly, their tongues entwining in the intricate dance that they had become so used to.

Harry was amazed at all the emotions that Draco was pouring into the kiss. The poor boy truly had been terrified at the prospect of going through life without Harry. Somehow, this made the kiss even better. Harry groaned deep in his throat and began to unbutton Draco's shirt.

This, of course, was the precise moment that Professor Snape chose to walk through the door.

"Good lord!" he yelped, and bolted back out the door.

Draco broke their kiss, laughing. "I'm sure he didn't want to see that!"

Harry scowled, grumpy at the fact that the person he hated most had just ended what was starting to be a very promising few hours. "Well, it'll teach him to knock before he comes into our room from now on."

Draco groaned and sat up. "I suppose I should go see what he wanted." He started re-buttoning his shirt.

"Oh come on, Drake, he can wait!" Harry whined, putting on a puppy-dog face.

"Don't give me that face, Harry, it's not going to work. He wouldn't have barged in here without a good reason!"

"Fine then," Harry said, pouting. "But I'm coming with you!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "If you want to. Not sure why you would, though. It's pretty obvious that he didn't come in here to congratulate you on being alive!"

After they both had gotten dressed, they went off in search of Snape. Halfway to his room, they were intercepted by Professor Dumbledore.

"Ah, boys, you're awake!" he said, his eyes twinkling.

"Yes, Professor," Harry said. "We were just looking for Professor Snape."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled even more, if that was possible. "Ah, yes. Unfortunately, I believe that Professor Snape has currently barricaded himself in his room and refuses to see anyone at the moment. I don't suppose you boys would know why?"

The two boys blushed and looked away. "Actually, Professor," Harry said sheepishly, "he…er…walked in on us kissing…"

"And I assume that he didn't take that well."

"No, apparently not," Draco agreed. "We thought he might have been coming to tell us something."

"Yes, indeed, and it looks as if it has fallen to me to inform you of what he wanted to tell you." He looked around as if to make sure that no one was near. "Come along. We shall discuss this in the drawing room."

They found the drawing room currently occupied by Ron and Hermione, but Dumbledore decided that the information would be valuable for the two of them, so they could stay. Of course, the fact that if he didn't tell them, Harry would, didn't influence his decision in the least. Yeah, right. Of course it didn't.

"Harry!" Hermione shrieked as he walked through the door. She flew across the room and flung her arms around him.

"Hey there, 'Mione," Harry said breathlessly. "I'm happy to see you, too, but I need to breathe, and you're kind of…cutting off my air."

"Oh, sorry," Hermione said, releasing him.

Harry looked over to Ron, but before he could say anything, Ron rushed up to him, grabbed him in a gigantic hug that lifted him off the ground, and twirled him around in a circle. "It's great to have you back, mate!" Ron exclaimed.

"It's great to _be_ back, Ron, but I think Hermione and Draco might be getting a little jealous," Harry said, looking for any excuse to get Ron to put him down. It worked…but not in the way he had wanted. Ron promptly released his grip on Harry, who fell to the floor, resulting in a rather large bruise on his backside.

"Hey, careful, Ron!" Draco laughed, helping Harry to his feet. "He just came back to life! I won't stand for him to be abused just yet!"

"Sorry mate," Ron apologized, blushing furiously.

Harry, however, was more interested in what Draco had said. "What do you mean, 'just yet'? I would think that you wouldn't want me to be abused at all!"

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "As much as I hate to break up this charming little reunion, there is something I would like to discuss with all of you."

The four friends fell instantly silent, and Dumbledore motioned for them to sit down in the various armchairs and couches of the room.

"Now, as you all have noticed, through some inexplicable miracle, Harry has been brought back to life." His eyes twinkled as Draco smiled hugely and took Harry's hand. "But we have to be aware," he said, turning somber, "that there could very likely be some negative repercussions from this."

"Negative repercussions?" Draco exclaimed. "What could be bad about Harry being alive?"

"You think Voldemort could be alive, too, don't you, Professor?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Yes, Miss Granger, I do indeed."

"What?" Draco asked. "No way! Ron and I killed him!"

Harry looked from Draco to Ron. "You did?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Actually, Mister Malfoy, you did not. Voldemort died because Harry died. It was just a coincidence that it happened at that precise moment."

"How do you know?"

"I just do. And now that Harry's alive, Voldemort may also be alive."

"Will everyone stop saying that bloody name?" Ron exclaimed, extremely pale.

Draco opened his mouth to say something foul, but Harry beat him to it. "Suck it up, Ron, you're going to be hearing it a lot, so you may as well get used to it."

Ron, Hermione, and Draco stared at him with open mouths, but Dumbledore just chuckled. "He does have a point, Mr. Weasley. The usage of his name is the least of our problems right now." He sighed. "The main problem is the matter of what we shall do if he truly is back."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked curiously.

"What he means is that I'm the only one who can kill Voldemort," Harry said softly.

Dumbledore nodded somberly. "That is indeed what I mean."

"That can't be true," Draco protested. "Harry can't be the only person!"

"It's in a prophecy, Drake. I'm the only one," Harry said resignedly, squeezing Draco's hand.

"You three must promise," Dumbledore said, addressing Ron, Hermione, and Draco, "that if Harry truly must do this, you will not try to stop him."

Ron and Hermione both were very used to this, and immediately agreed to let him do what he had to do, but Draco was a little more hard-nosed. "Bloody hell, of course I'll try to stop him! You can't ask me to just sit back and let him go get himself killed!"

Harry put a hand on Draco's shoulder. "Drake…"

"No, Harry!" Draco said, shrugging off his hand and standing up. "I won't let you get killed again! You promised you wouldn't leave me!"

"Draco, I-" Harry started, but Draco had stormed out the door.

Harry stood up and started to follow him, but Dumbledore put out a hand to stop him. "No. Let him cool off for a little while. He'll listen better when he's had time to think this out."

Harry nodded, but continued to stare at the door as if he could somehow force Draco to come back.

Harry gave Draco ample time to think and calm down, and finally went off in search of him. He found the boy sitting alone in the room they had been sharing. Draco was sitting in a large armchair in the dark, staring out the window.

Harry crouched down next to him and gently took his hand. "Dray…"

"I won't let you die again, Harry," Draco said softly, still staring intently out the window. "I can't. I can't take that again."

Harry sighed. "Draco, look at me," he pleaded, Draco refused to turn his head. "Drake, look at me," he said more firmly. When Draco still wouldn't look at him, Harry leapt up into the chair, straddled his husband, plopped himself down on his legs, and forced Draco to look at him. "Now, listen to me!" he said seriously. "I love you, Draco, and I will never leave you!"

"You can't promise me that, Harry!" Draco exclaimed, close to tears. "You said it yourself!"

Harry decided to take a more psychological approach to this. "Draco, why do you think I'm going to die?"

"Because if you want to kill Voldemort, you have to die! Severus told me," he said, looking away.

Harry rolled his eyes. "You know, Drake, if you had stayed in the sitting room, you would have heard Dumbledore say that the bond between Voldemort and I could very possibly be broken!"

Draco looked up at him with hope in his eyes. "Really?"

Harry smiled and kissed the tip of Harry's nose. "I wouldn't lie to you, love."

Draco rested his head on Harry's shoulder and wrapped his arms around him. "But how can we be sure?" he whispered.

"I guess we can't," Harry admitted. "But you must understand that I will never leave you, Draco. No matter what, I will never leave you." He felt Draco nod into his shoulder in understanding, and he smiled. "You want some ice-cream?"

Draco leaned his forehead against Harry's and raised an eyebrow. "Ice-cream?"

"Yes, ice-cream. It always makes you feel better."

Draco sighed. "I don't suppose there's any chance of you bringing the ice-cream to me, is there?"

Harry laughed. "Sorry, love, but I've been dead, and I'd like to get out and stretch my legs."

Draco grumbled. "Oh, alright. Where is this ice-cream?"

"There's a shop down the road if you don't mind walking there."

"No, I don't mind, I guess. If you want to walk, I'll walk."

"Ok, then!" Harry said, getting off of Draco and offering him his hand. "Let's go!"

The ice-cream parlor was a muggle one, and Draco was not at all impressed with their selection of flavours, or lack thereof.

"How can you only have 31 flavours?" Draco had asked the clerk incredulously. "Honestly, you don't even have chicken, or spinach, or-"

Harry quickly clamped his hand on Draco's mouth and ordered them both banana splits.

"Really, Draco!" Harry said scoldingly once they were outside out of earshot. "Someone would think that you're _trying_ to expose the wizarding world!"

They sat at a table outside the ice-cream parlor, eating their banana splits and enjoying the beautiful day. They watched the Muggles going about their lives, and made up names and backgrounds for them.

"You see that guy?" Draco asked, pointing to a man walking along briskly in a suit. "His name is Charles. He never lets anyone call him Charlie. He's a…what are they called? Those blokes who work with those machines that are called…Eentern-et or whatever."

"Computer technicians?" Harry offered.

"Yeah, that's it. Anyway, he's never been late to work. He's a single dad with two kids who both go to boarding school. His wife left him because he works too hard. He'll never re-marry, and he's going to die of a heart-attack at the age of forty-five."

"Jeeze, Drake, morbid much?"

"I'm just saying what I see."

They continued their game for another hour, earning them several glares as they burst out laughing at observations they made.

Once they tired of their games, they walked slowly back to #12 Grimmauld Place, hand in hand, ignoring the looks they got for it.

As they walked through the door, Hermione came running down the stairs, looking furious. "Where have you two _been_?" she asked accusingly. "We've been looking for you for an hour and a half!"

"Sorry, Hermione," Harry said sheepishly. "We went out for ice-cream."

Hermione stared at him. "Harry, it's eleven-thirty in the morning. Surely you can come up with a better excuse than that!"

"It's true!" Draco protested. "We got ice-cream!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I really don't understand the two of you."

"Wow…that's amazing!" Harry exclaimed.

"What?"

"You know everything there is to know, but you don't understand us!"

Hermione rolled her eyes again and started to walk off, but the front door flew open with a loud bang, revealing Fred and George standing on the doorstep.

"Greetings, citizens!" Fred yelled, jumping energetically through the door.

This, of course, was more than enough noise to awaken Mrs. Black from her usual silence

"_FOUL MUDBLOODS BEMUCKING MY HOME!" _she screamed with her normal noise level. "_SCURGE OF THE EARTH!_"

"I can see why Sirius ran away," George said as Harry, Draco, and Hermione desperately tried to shut the portrait up.

When the drapery had finally been pulled back over her, the three of them turned to face Fred and George.

"It's good to see the two of you again!" Hermione said happily. "What brings you back here?"

"Well-" Fred started, but he was interrupted by his youngest brother, who came charging down the stairs.

"Oi! Hermione!" he shouted. "Who's at the d-" He stopped short at the sight of his brothers. "Fred! George! What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too, Ron," George said sarcastically, rolling his eyes and frowning. "And as to what we're doing here, we were just about to say when we were so rudely interrupted!"

"Anyway, as I was saying," Fred said good-naturedly, "we just got word from Dad that Harry was alive again, and we had to see it for ourselves before they let the press know."

Harry groaned. "The press? Why are they going to let the press know?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "It's not like they wouldn't figure it out anyway! And plus, could you imagine the reaction if someone saw you walking around when they thought you were dead?"

"Well, yeah, but…but…" he floundered for an excuse, "but I _hate_ the press!"

"Of course, Harry," Hermione said with a smile. "_Everyone_ hates the press. But they have to know!"

"That's what Dad says," George said with a wink at Hermione.

"Well, maybe I want a second opinion," Harry said grumpily. "What does your _Mum_ say?"

Everyone in the room fell instantly silent and looked at the floor, and Harry knew he had said something bad. "What? What did I do?"

"It's not anything _you_ did, Harry," Ron said softly. "It's just that…"

"Mum's not talking to us anymore," Fred spoke up matter-of-factly.

"She didn't like us flying out of Hogwarts and opening our joke shop, so she's stopped speaking to us!" George said good-naturedly.

"I'm surprised you didn't know!" Hermione said.

"I'm just as surprised as you are!" Harry said with a confused look on his face. "I must have been preoccupied with _other things_," he looked at Draco, "to have noticed."

"That's no excuse, Harry," Draco laughed. "I've known for a long time!"

"Ah, don't be hard on him, Draco. I know what it's like to be in love." Fred gazed wistfully off into space, apparently remembering lost loves. "Anyway," he said, snapping back to reality, "we really should be getting back to the shop."

"Yes, lots of orders to fill," George agreed.

They smiled playfully and apparated, leaving the four friends to close the door for them.

"So, what are we going to do for the rest of the day?" Harry asked.

"I don't know, what do you want to do?" Ron asked.

"We could go out somewhere," Hermione suggested.

"Out where?" Draco asked.

Harry's eyes lit up. "Hey, 'Mione, let's take these two-" he gestured to Ron and Draco, "-to a movie!"

"A _what_?" Draco asked skeptically.

"A movie. It's…well…it's like a play, only it's on a muggle screen."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Sounds _thrilling_."

"Come on, Drake, just try it!" Harry whined.

"I'm game!" Ron spoke up. "Come on, we'll have fun!"

"Oh, fine," Draco finally gave in. "But you owe me one, Harry."

"Oh, believe me, I'll make it up to you," Harry said seductively, taking Draco's hand and leading him out the door.

"Do you think you two could keep that to a minimum when Hermione and I are around?" Ron asked uncomfortably as he and Hermione walked out after them and shut the door.

"I don't get it," Draco complained after the movie. "I really don't. People actually _pay_ to see those things?"

"I thought it was kinda cool," Ron protested. HE turned to Hermione. "What I don't get is why people see it more than once!"

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"Well, when we were in line for the tickets, I heard three girls behind us who had seen the movie five times!"

"Oh, yeah!" Harry exclaimed. "I remember them! The ones with the hats?"

Draco snorted. "They were definitely odd. I mean, they were wearing a cabby hat, a bowler derby, and …I don't even know what to _call_ the other one."

"I think it was an Indiana Jones hat," Hermione observed.

Ron and Draco stared at her. "A what?" they asked together.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Never mind."

They were sitting at the kitchen table at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, contentedly sipping Butterbeers. Hermione had a book propped up in front of her, but wasn't paying much attention to it for once. She was more occupied with explaining to Ron why the movies never changed their plots or endings. Harry was leaning back against Draco, enjoying the feeling of his husband's arms around him, and they were both listening with amusement as Hermione and Ron argued as to just _why_ movies never changed. It was an extremely interesting conversation.

Unfortunately, it was interrupted when Dumbledore flooed in.

"Professor!" Harry exclaimed, sitting up. "What brings you here?"

"Bad news, I'm afraid," the headmaster said somberly. "I have just received news that Voldemort is, indeed, alive again."

The four teens stared at him as if he had lost his mind. If he had ever _had_ his mind, that is. "Are you sure?" Hermione asked quietly.

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "I wish I weren't. Unfortunately, I am."

"When do I have to leave?" Harry asked, looking as though he had a horrible stomachache.

"As soon as possible, I'm afraid. You may have a better chance of defeating him now, seeing as he may be weak from being brought back to life."

"I wasn't weak," Harry grumbled.

"That's true," Dumbledore agreed. "But you have a better chance of killing him now than you have before."

"It's a good thing we didn't let the Daily Prophet know about Voldemort's death yet," Ron said, trying to look on the bright side.

"Yeah, imagine how that would go over," Hermione agreed.

Draco just sat, looking as though he had been diagnosed with terminal cancer.

Harry noticed his look. "Professor, could I at least stay here for one night?" Harry pleaded.

Dumbledore nodded sadly. "Of course, Harry. But I should say that noon tomorrow is the latest that you should leave."

"Yes, sir," Harry whispered.

Dumbledore nodded gravely to all of them in turn and flooed back out.

They all turned their heads to look at Harry. "You'll be alright, Harry," Ron assured him, obviously not believing a word he was saying.

"Of course I'll be okay," Harry agreed shakily. "What could go wrong?"

For the rest of the day, Ron and Hermione stayed as close to Harry as possible, but towards the late afternoon, they let Draco have time alone with Harry.

Five o'clock that evening found Harry and Draco sitting in front of the fire, arms wrapped around each other.

Harry was quite content to just sit there silently and be held, until he caught the look on Draco's face. He was staring straight into the fire, looking as if he were trying not to cry.

"I'm going to be ok, Draco," Harry whispered comfortingly.

Draco nodded. "Of course you are. You're going to be fine!" He sounded as if here were going hysterical.

"Draco, please, stop worrying about me! I swear I'll be alright!"

"Harry, nothing you can say will ever make me stop worrying about you!" Draco wiped his eyes. "It's not fair!" he exclaimed angrily. "I only just got you back last night, and you're already being taken away from me again? How is that fair?"

"It's not," Harry agreed. "I don't want to go at all! I don't want to leave you! It's not fair that I should have to do this by myself! It's not fair that I can never have a normal relationship, with you or any of my friends, because they'd always be in danger from Death Eaters, and there will always be the possibility that I could die! But this is how it is, and how it has to be, and there's nothing anyone can do about it."

Draco looked at him incredulously. "I'm sorry, Harry," he whispered softly.

"Sorry for what?"

"I never saw this through your eyes before. I've always been complaining because _I_ was suffering through this; _I_ was going to be left without you. I never thought about how this was affecting _you_." He snuggled into Harry's embrace. "I can't imagine what it's like for you."

Harry chuckled into Draco's hair. "Believe me, it's been no walk in the park.

Draco pondered that for a second. "You're going to be ok, Harry," he said with conviction.

"Yeah. Of course."

Early the next morning, Harry slipped silently out of bed, trying his hardest not to wake Draco, who was sleeping soundly next to him.

After dressing, he placed a letter on the bedside table next to Draco. HE gazed lovingly down at his husband and gently kissed his forehead. After making sure he wasn't going to wake up, Harry silently tiptoed out of the room and closed the door.

Draco woke up alone. At first, he panicked until he saw the clock reading 9:30 am. Harry couldn't have left yet; perhaps he was just getting breakfast.

Then he saw the letter.

His heart skipped a beat as he picked it up and fingered it, afraid of what it might read. He couldn't believe Harry would leave without saying goodbye. Finally, curiosity got the better of him, and he opened it.

The letter read:

_Dearest Draco,_

_I apologize for writing this letter. It is cowardly of me to leave you with just this short note, but I feel that I would not be able to go if I had to say goodbye to you personally._

_I hope you will be able to forgive me for this. I know that I will never be able to forgive myself._

_Perhaps I'm just making it harder by leaving without saying goodbye. Perhaps I'm making the worst (and last) mistake of my life. I suppose time will tell, eventually._

_I love you more than words can say, Draco, and I know you love me also, but if I don't return, you **must** move on with your life. Consider it my dying request that you learn to live without me. It will be hard, I know. If you died, I would wish with every fiber of my being to die along with you. But the pain will pass in time, Draco, you must trust me on that._

_Remember what I told you: No matter what the outcome of this, I will **always** be with you. Always._

_I Love You._

_Harry_

Draco's heart skipped again. He left! He left without even saying goodbye! Of course, Draco understood what Harry had done. He didn't blame him at all. Given the circumstances, it was probably what Draco himself would have done, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

He dressed slowly and walked downstairs in a daze, still holding the letter tightly in his hand.

"Where's Harry?" Hermione asked as Draco walked into the kitchen where she and Ron where playing chess.

"He left," Draco replied dully, plopping down into a chair and burying his face in his hands, the letter still clasped in one of them.

"What?" Ron exclaimed. "When?"

"I don't know. Early this morning, I suppose. He left a letter."

"Oh, Draco," Hermione whined. "That's awful!"

"At least he said goodbye to some extent," Ron said hopefully.

"He could have said it in person," Draco mumbled miserably.

"Count yourself lucky," Hermione advised. "He didn't even write us letters! He just…left."

Draco stared off into space. "He'll be ok, though. He'll be ok, right?"

Ron and Hermione exchanged a look. "Of course he will be," Hermione soothed him. "He'll be back in no time."

Draco nodded and continued staring.

There was no word from or about Harry for the whole day.

Draco was going out of his mind. "Anything could be happening to him!" he exclaimed suddenly during a game of exploding snap. "Voldemort could have him tied to the floor with…something…eating him slowly, and there's nothing I can do to help him!"

Ron and Hermione stared at him. "I don't think that's going to happen, mate," Ron said, looking slightly sick. "More likely Voldemort's just going to kill him." It took a little while for what he had just said to sink in. "Oh, crap! I meant, Harry's going to whip his arse! Yeah, that's what I really said!"

"Sure, Ron. Whatever," Draco said, slouching back into an armchair and looking glum.

Hermione whacked Ron. "See, look what you've done! You've got him all worried and depressed!"

Ron rubbed his bruised arm and pouted. "Sorry."

"S'ok, Ron," Draco said distractedly.

Hermione and Ron both looked at him worriedly, but neither said anything for fear of upsetting him again.

Draco went to bed at midnight. He had stayed up late, just in case Harry would come home, but finally, Hermione had forced him to go to bed.

He was exhausted. He couldn't imagine why, seeing as all he had done all day was to mope around and worry about Harry. But, even though he was so tired, he couldn't sleep. He was much too worried. He lay awake, staring at the canopy above him, willing Harry to survive the night.

He finally drifted off into a fitful, worried sleep, completely oblivious that some part of the wizarding world was already starting to celebrate.

"Draco!"

Of all the ways Draco could have chosen to wake up, having Hermione scream at him and shove a newspaper in his face was definitely not at the top of his list.

"Wassamatter?" he asked grumpily.

"Look at the headline!" Hermione said exasperatedly.

Draco forced his eyes to focus and read the headline.

You-Know-Who Defeated at Last!

Draco almost died with relief, until he realized that Hermione was making sure that her hand was covering the sub-headline.

"Hermione, what are you trying to hide from me?"

"Nothing!" she said a little too innocently, not looking at him.

"Hermione…"

"I've got to go wake up Ron," she said quickly. "You should get up now."

"Hermione!" he whined after her, but she had already left the room.

So, obviously, if he wanted to find out what she had been hiding from him, he had no choice but to get out of bed and find her.

"Hermione!" he called, walking down the stairs. "Hermione, where are you?"

He found her in the sitting room with Ron. They were both pouring over the Daily Prophet, but when he walked in, they quickly hid the front page.

Draco sighed. "What are you two hiding from me?" he asked exasperatedly.

"Nothing!" Ron said quickly.

"Oh, come on, Ron! It's not like I'm not going to figure it out eventually!"

Hermione took a breath and nervously handed over the newspaper, so that Draco could finally see the sub-headline.

You-Know-Who Defeated at Last!

_But where is Harry Potter?_

Young Hero Defeats Dark Lord for Second time and Disappears!

Draco stared at the words. How could Harry be missing? But maybe that was a good thing. If Harry was missing, then that meant that they hadn't found his dead body.

"It's probably nothing, Draco," Hermione said soothingly. "I'm sure he's fine."

"But if he's fine…" Draco asked slowly, "why isn't he here? Why didn't he come home last night?"

"Draco-"

"Maybe he's hurt and he can't get back! Maybe he's lying in a ditch somewhere, dying, and he can't get help!"

"No, Draco, I'm sure that's not what happened. There are probably still Death Eaters after him, and he's hiding out for a bit. You know he'd never risk them following him back here!"

Draco nodded. "I hope so. I mean, I don't want Death Eaters after him, but I'd rather have that than have Harry hurt."

Hermione smiled. "Of course. How about you come downstairs and have some tea to calm your nerves. Everything will turn out alright."

Everything did not, however, turn out right. Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, and still Harry did not return. Three months passed without so much as a letter.

"That's it!" Draco exclaimed in frustration one day. "I'm going to find him!"

"What?" Hermione exclaimed. "No! You can't!"

"Why not?" Draco demanded.

Hermione and Ron looked at each other nervously.

"Damn it, you two, tell me what you know, or I'm leaving right now!"

"Well, actually," Ron began, "he's…he's in hiding. There really are Death Eaters after him."

Draco stared at the two of them. "That's it. That's the big secret. _Why the bloody hell didn't you just tell me?_"

"We weren't allowed to!" Hermione explained. "Dumbledore made us swear we wouldn't tell you, because you'd do something stupid, like going to see him!"

"Well, why _can't_ I go see him?"

"Because there are Death Eaters after him! They want to kill him! They could follow you to where he is and kill the both of you!"

"Hermione, it's been three months. If they haven't found him by now, they're not going to find him at all."

"Draco-"

"_Please_, Hermione, _please_? I have to see him, I _need_ to see him!"

Hermione sighed. "Dumbledore's not going to be happy about this…"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Oh, who cares what Dumbledore thinks. As long as neither one of them die, it's fine, right?"

"Ok…" She walked over to a drawer and pulled out a slip of paper. "This is where he's staying," she said, handing it to Draco. "Don't let anyone see you."

"I won't," Draco said, smiling and clutching the paper.

Draco found the address on the paper, and looked up at the large apartment building. Of all the places he could have thought Harry might stay, this was not one of them. He wouldn't say it was run-down, exactly, but it was obviously falling into disrepair.

Taking a deep breath, he walked up to the door and looked at the slip of paper again. It said to ring the buzzer for room 12A and ask for Greg Lee.

So, as instructed, he did this.

"Yes?" came the voice he had so longed to hear.

"I'm here to see Greg Lee," Draco said, trying to disguise his voice so that Harry wouldn't know it was him.

There was silence for a second, and then, "Alright, I'll buzz you up."

There was a soft buzz, and Draco opened the door.

Walking up to room 12A, he started to wonder if this was such a good idea. Maybe someone had followed him here! He wasn't particularly afraid of dying, but if Harry died because of him…he could never forgive himself. Before he could lose his nerve, however, he arrived at the door.

Right as he was about to knock, the door flew open. "Draco! What the _fuck_ are you doing here?" Harry demanded angrily.

Whatever reaction Draco had been expecting, it wasn't this. "I wanted to see you!" he shot back. "In case you haven't noticed, we haven't seen each other in three months! I missed you!"

"You could have waited until it was safe!"

"No, I couldn't have, Harry, I needed to see you! I've been waiting for _three months_! I couldn't wait any longer! I love you!"

Suddenly, they both heard someone clear their throat, and they looked to see Harry's neighbor staring at the two of them.

"It's ok, Mrs. Green," Harry said exasperatedly. "He's just joking."

"I most certainly am not!" Draco exclaimed indignantly. With a quick glance at Mrs. Green to make sure she was still watching, he pulled Harry's head down to meet his in a passionate kiss.

Mrs. Green gasped and hurried down the stairs, but neither Harry nor Draco noticed this. They were both wrapped up in their own little world, where no one existed except the two of them.

Harry broke the kiss. "Holy Hell, Draco, I hate it when you do that?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Do what?"

"When you ruin a perfectly bad mood." Draco laughed and Harry nuzzled his neck. "Mmm, I missed your laugh. Come on, we'd better go in before any more of my neighbors come out."

It was shaping up to be a _very_ interesting night. Then again, how could it not? I mean, get two sex-starved gay boys who hadn't seen the person they loved in three months, and you're gonna have a pretty interesting time.

Unfortunately, before the two boys could get anywhere that they might consider _good_, Dumbledore flooed in through the fireplace.

"Mr. Malfoy, I am most unhappy with you right now!"

"What?" Draco asked, grumpy that his nice night had been interrupted so rudely. "Why?"

"You have put both yourself and Mr. Potter in considerable danger!" Then he smiled. "But I suppose that's of no consequence now."

"Why?" Harry asked, alarmed.

"The Death Eaters who were after you have been apprehended. Apparently, Tonks caught them as they followed Draco in here." Draco blushed. "But, seeing as the immediate danger has pass, Mr. Potter, you are free to go home."

Harry let out a whoop of joy and hugged Draco tightly to him. "Come on, Drake, let's get out of here!"

Arriving at #12, Draco walked into the kitchen to find Ron and Hermione sitting at the table.

"Draco!" Hermione exclaimed. "Did you find Harry?"

"He found me alright," Harry answered, walking in.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, rushing up to hug him tightly. "I'm so glad you're alright!"

"What are you doing here, mate?" Ron asked. "I thought there were Death Eaters after you!"

"There were, but Dumbledore said that Tonks has caught them!"

"Harry, that's wonderful!" Hermione said, still not releasing her bone-crunching clasp on him.

"C'mon, Hermione," Draco whined. "He's _my_ husband, not yours!"

"Sorry," Hermione grinned sheepishly, letting Harry go.

"S'ok, Hermione. I'm just so glad to see all of you again! It got lonely all by myself."

"You could have had us come over, Harry," Draco insisted. "We would have found a way to get in without being seen."

"Well, obviously not if it was left up to _you_," Harry teased. "You're the ones who led the Death Eaters to me in the first place!"

"I wasn't trying to," Draco pouted.

"Of course not," Harry agreed, wrapping his arms around his beloved. "It doesn't even matter now. I'm back, the war is over, and most importantly, we're together."

Draco chuckled. "And to think this all started with a Pensieve."

THE END!


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